A poetic reflection on frozen words awaiting divine guidance.
When the Pen Stilled
Watch as it happens.
The hand glides over the paper
Pen in hand
Like a bird in effortless flight
Ink soaks deep into the page
transferring emotions with every stroke
And with every stroke,
The writer escapes–
away from the noise of the world
Into a truth of their own making
The page flips
The words continue to flow
Onto this sacred space
But suddenly–
The pen stops.
Not because there is nothing left to say,
But because the soul is listening–
Searching for where God wants to speak next.
Wonderful ♥️
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you. 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nice post 💜❤️💗
Blessed and Happy saturday 🌷
Grettings 🇪🇦🌎
LikeLiked by 1 person