The Path of the Physician Writer – Dried Ink

First I spill the ink in deference

Then and only then

Do I dip my pen into the deep well of blackness of the past, present and future

Memories flow

From gifted tales long ago

That old, wise scribes once sowed

Those words I now reap

Floating aloft like

Paper boats travelling through time

Built by river reeds and aged hands

They navigate violet channels in my mind

Welcoming I guide them through intrepid passages

These vessels laden with golden messages

Of scribes of yore

Heads on high, birthing fecund lore

For they sailed the mind of all there is

Ever was and ever will be

Inked every story to be told

Then I remember another thing

And another long forgotten

Sunken chests waiting to breathe life again

They wrote

I write

© 2019 IC Blackman