Every morning I come into my office,
sit down at my desk, record the date and time,
and for thirty minutes, sometimes longer,
I open my journal, select a pen, and write.
The first words, the first thoughts,
sometimes play hide-and-seek,
wanting to sleep a few more minutes
before playing on the page,
shy, perhaps, about revealing themselves,
or still sleepy, unsure if they're
ready to begin.
Once the pen touches the paper
and a spot of ink appears
beneath it on the page,
those words and those thoughts
gain courage and strength
and begin to race each other
onto the page to see who will be
the first to appear,
flowing like a stream,
gaining momentum and force,
like a river merging with the sea.
Each word another drop of water,
the letters like sea spray
released by waves crashing
onto the shore,
rivulets forming in the sand
as the tide retreats.
You can feel your breath
ebbing and flowing
at the beginning
and end
of each line,
leaving diamond crystals
glittering on the sand,
and shells you've never seen before
waiting to be picked up
and carried away.
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