This poem was not really created at any one time. I remember back in Kindergarten, that I would spend much of my free time gluing together pieces of paper to make mini-notebooks. Most of the time I wouldn’t write in any of these, but for some reason I would just keep making more, and I was always very happy doing this. For some reason I have always enjoyed just staring at notebooks and thinking about all of the various ways that they can be used, usually without using the book for any of them.
The Empty Page
For all my life I have always admired
the magic of the empty book.
Within its pages much can be done
use for pleasure, pain, or fun.
The empty page has a quite a history
of receiving everything from
technical to drama and mystery.
It has received the idea of music note
and the toddler’s picture
when he scrawled the stick-figure boat.
it is in emptiness when it is at its best
and the pen
has long been laid at rest
for its limitation knows no
bounds, and though only flat
can capture sight, feeling, and sound.