J's Musings

By Janhavi B.

The familiar smoothness,

Of the pen’s grip that touches my finger,

So different from the keyboard’s sleek keys,

The black ink that drips onto the paper,

As I write words of love,

Unlike the digital, hard words that appear,

As I clack the keys,

The uneven, undecided, handwriting,

So familiar to the heart,              

Nothing like the decided, cold, even font,

So far from my soul,

The tears that smudge my wet ink,

The glitch that shuts down my software,

The forever etches of a pen on paper,

Or the heartless clumps of black on my screen,

Whom do I choose,

For the time suggests one,

Yet the heart says another;

So today I choose my heart,

The imprints of the ink,

Over the time’s nameless technology,

For I cannot write where my heart does not reside.

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