To Leave The Page Alone

To leave the page alone: 

sometimes there's a temptation to leave the page alone, unmarked, allowing emptiness to remain pristine for just this day. It often seems that there's already a poem here, perfect in its display, and any word I leave will only mar the appearance of the page, adding my own definition to what's better left unsaid. Of course I always bring myself to write, hoping to add something of beauty, perhaps with some deep meaning left behind, and at the very least to have fulfilled my sense of purpose. 

a writer...writes. 

the truth is that a writer always works with emptiness, befriends it, knowing so well of its infinite potential to hold every word and phrase and never being close to filled. Emptiness is a writer's own spacious nature matched against the page, and a gifted poet knows to weave words through this holy space, honoring it sparsely, never tempted to leave anything more than just the briefest meaning. 

so even with the temptation to leave the page alone - I know that I've been invited here, called to write, and that my words are only temporary in their appearance. Emptiness always remains, being ever present, lending itself to suit my need of purpose, and expanding to hold my every thought and word. My words make little difference, they're not meant to add meaning here, but to only briefly be displayed, and perhaps offer contrast to the primordial nature of the page. That's the only role of beauty, not to last, being seasonal in a sense, and that's it very appearance is just a momentary gift from emptiness. 

to leave the page alone...

and really this was never truly an option, writer's write, accepting emptiness as a gift and leaving words behind, arranged in hopeful beauty, prayer like, honoring the holiness of this opportunity to fulfill their sense of purpose. 

writer's...write. 

it's why we were invited here. 

~

Peace, Eric