For the First Page of a Brand New Journal
Why should I fear to mar this empty page?
Deface it with the scratching of my pen
In the end it only yellows and decays
And with it, takes my words away again
Why do I fear to shake this brand new day?
Careful, should it break like fragile glass
What is it, but a formless lump of clay?
That laughs ecstatic in my shaping hands
Why should I fear to risk the depth of love?
And trembling, pull back from the dangerous edge
So certain that my wings were not enough
So certain that I knew how deep it went
How can life be tasted and be touched
By a tourist snapping pictures from a bus?
Alec Steinwall