Pull back, enter page, like arrow from bow,
As one wields a sword, to ebb and to flow.
Chaos and harmony, in minds and in souls,
Sharing strange moments, yet quite common goals.
Neither of which, clearly heard or seen,
Then, be it found, betwixt and between.
Translating weaving ethereal words,
Truly, the pen is the wand of all worlds.
© Sayer Teller
“Clover” quills are now up for sale on The Market. Made from local Cayuga feathers.
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