Feeling the pages flip through my mind,
Each numbered, flying around me,
the corners, moving like magic carpets,
memories, stories told by me.
So many things buzzing in the air.
Love of our craft, friendships for life,
common grounds, some coffee...
I love the me I see in the mirror.
I look and all around are my characters
whispering their stories in my ears.
I am merely the vessel the have chosen,
the word master with paper and pen.
My written words are their conflicts,
laughter, tears,
all things that make up the world of paper
that lies before me,
soon to be filled with their words,
their lives for all to see.
No more excuses,
no more doubts.
We are all writers,
we all have different stories to tell.
Now, it is time to listen and with our ears,
we may filter through our beings,
these works that must be created.
These treasures of our souls.
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