Passing days do not spark the pen, nor the heart.
They depress the mind and sullen the soul usually.
Thus with each minute a good phrase or sentence dies.
But two people, together can light each other, their pens.
Only two people is enough to keep a fire simmering.
And save the burning coal of words and poetry.
Standing together shall revive this, our spirituality,
our grand offering to the beauty of the universe,
so, add more and more wood, to increase that flame.
Passing hours do not lessen the pain,
Of living, breathing, walking alone.
And every second multiplies words left unsaid.
Shimmering as they beg to be penned.
Linking thoughts to ink with heartfelt strokes.
Two poets, pens joined in mental communion.
Breathe life into the passing hours.
This communion of minds is surreal,
Lending colors to the days.
Do not hurt the mind pray,
Let the words flow.
A two handed poem I did with my friend Edgar