I had a conversation the other day that was filled with darkness and light mingled with hope and fear. She used a beautiful expression that grabbed my attention and poet’s heart. One’s story and path can be likened to a book. The myriad of emotions, feelings, hopes, fears and ambitions can be likened to the ink on the pages of your book. The pages can be torn and withered, or crisp and clean without a smudge of ink. But these pages come and go, the darkness and light lives together. I believe that life is one continual chapter, with a bundle of clear and obscure and light and dark overlapping motifs and characters and experiences and revelations and resolutions.
Parchment and Ink
Cold bottle wavers uncertainly –
slowly, I gasp for breath
as the ink of emotion spills.
The ink of fear, ambition, hope.
The cadence of black feather tip
is interrupted with snaking veins.
Hiding my flaws result in smudges,
weathers, withers and blemishes.
It adds a haunting beauty
to the pages of my book:
a uniqueness discernible,
for it is my story, my ink.
I keep my book guarded,
lest the beautiful smears meet light.
I unbound leather.
I reset bottle gingerly.
I dip feather and keep on writing.
Keep on writing the chapter of my life.
Francois Hermanus Steyn – January 2013