The Art of Being Human

This being human is an open notebook
Every morning a fresh page—
Waiting to be written on.

I am the writer
but that doesn’t mean
the others can’t write.

My notebook is open—
I love to write
and to write with love.

Some drop off
their baggage of sorrows
on my notebook and I invite it,

for writing certainly clears
the minds of those who write.

I am grateful
that my notebook
with its notes written
in different inks
and handwriting
has sent joy
and welcomed whoever
comes to write.

Posted over at dverse poetics

© MRITYUNJAY DIXIT, 2021. — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED