I PICKED UP MY PEN AND STARTED WRITING

laid aside my swords and my guns
purchased a choir robe
donned a shepherd’s mantle
filled my scabbards with papyrus
filled my sheaths with scrolls
washed away my bloodlust
made peace my motto
made peace my song

then i picked up a pen and started writing

i wrote poems, prose and memoirs
i wrote short stories, and stories long
i wrote about anger, i wrote about injustice
and i wrote about righting wrongs,
but something wasn’t quite right
so i laid my pen down
picked up my glasses
placed the frames upon my eyes
and began to read

i read books, i read journals
i read magazines, i read ezines
i read online, i read offline
i read encyclopedias, i read dictionaries
i read fiction, i read non-fiction
i read poetry, i read prose
i read while hungry, i read while sleepy
i read after midnight, i read before dawn
and before the day was done
i journeyed

i journeyed on trains, ships and planes
i crossed state lines, i traversed provinces
i island hopped, cut straits, scaled plateaus
i jumped from peninsula to peninsula
empire to empire
commonwealth to commonwealth
continent to continent

finally after many years, after many days
after many hours, after many moments
i closed the covers of my journals, my zines
my hardbacks, my paperbacks
i landed on the shores of my desk
where the scabbards of my papyrus
and the sheaths of my scrolls lay
i pulled a sheet from the leather casing

and i picked up my pen and started writing