While the ink is pouring out of the pen.

maple tree in the fall, autumn leaves, yellow leaves

Secrets of the Forest

While the ink is pouring out of the pen
I will write.
I will write while the river of
inspiration babbles in my ear.
As long as the fairies will whisper
the secrets of the forest
I will write them down.
because tomorrow’s dawn
might bring a wildfire
and sweep away the beauty
before I have time to
make a monument to it.
I will scribble and try to immortalize
the thing that caught my eye,
because even fairies die.
Then who will tell you
the secrets of the forest?

 

Do you try to write when the mood hits you?

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One thought on “While the ink is pouring out of the pen.

  1. Pingback: 2014 in review | Failing at Haiku

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