Why Write

by Sami Bennett

a poem

the whole would
as a sheet of paper
that stretches out
across your bed, across the room
down the street behind your house
through the town
over the hills
beyond the oceans
across the world
bigger than you can imagine
further than you can picture
all blank
waiting, hoping
If you dab your quill into the ink now
and rest it on the surface of this page
instead of what you might expect
(lines in two dimensions)
you get drawings
drawing life
First it begins with simple objects
a shoelace
a salamander
a pot of soup
Then you draw texture
you feel the bumpy rocks and smooth stones
the scales of snakes and the thorn of the raspberry bushes
Then you draw light
the blinking fireflies
the beckoning stars
the blinding sun bending through glistening water
Then you draw sounds
cricket chirps, eagles cries, and the thunder
Then, although your hand is shaking,
you draw feelings
of joy, dispair, madness, fear
By now your hand is so unsteady
you hardly control its movement
but it continues to fill up the page
an everlasting page circling ’round the globe
And when you reach the beginning’s end
you paint it over again with a new color scheme
a different reality
Your hand stops shaking
and all the drawings from your page
travel up your arm into your face
making you gleam with life.