Of Eons and Ink

The swell of spilled ink

Falls from ether brink

And none of us knows its full reach

Its thought-river rolls

From the whisper of souls

To thrill and to comfort and teach

We grapple inside

At the tug of its tide

Craving, rebelling, we fight

Keen intercourse

Of thought finding voice

Trembling and trusting, we write

Over Time’s ramparts

And ocean of years

Ink-rivers surge to a place

Of heart touching heart

Though oceans apart

Eons and ink interlace

© Janet Martin

Happy New Year!  

(Lord willing this little creek will keep trickling:)

J~