sometimes

the blank page,
the snow white
sheet of paper,
patient and quiet,
without a word
on it, is a most
beautiful thing.
empty and holding
the promise of
a tale not yet
told. every word
written, every poem
or play, book
or script has to
deal with the beauty
and wonder,
and yes, fear
of the blank page.
it's a glorious
thing to have
nothing there
and then have it
magically appear
as if out of thin
sweet air. if only
it was that easy.