I dragged my soul where quill
and paper were both laying still
Or quill took control of its own
Unharked the command of sleep,
Morpheus lull and tired sigh
of weary bones
What earthly matter is to quill?
It wants to fly, it wants to soar
Above the gravity of grave,
above in love upstream the current
Resistant to amorphous decay
Sunbathing in the rays unhurried
My silent lips' life quill revived
Its soft side traced my cheeks and lobes
The tranquil sound of inks tide
Washed my feet while the quill probes
My thoughts would walk near the shore
Yet long to embark on inks boat
To distant place its names galore
Lost till I find your heart's road


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