Each man is himself a pen:
a slim reed
cut from the bed of possibility,
fired in the pain and trials of life,
until the crack
that is his central flaw
fills with the ink of yearning
and bright tales appear –
from so humble a tool –
to tell of our Master’s beauty.
a slim reed
cut from the bed of possibility,
fired in the pain and trials of life,
until the crack
that is his central flaw
fills with the ink of yearning
and bright tales appear –
from so humble a tool –
to tell of our Master’s beauty.