POEM: PALM OIL

In the palms of our hands we held
the ways to uncork and throttle

The spirit of creativity
in thought word and deed

We looked at how the cylinder
was exalted (neat and coddled)

Like a bottled genie
In a waiting room wishing to be free

In all the lines and subtle shapes
that have yet to be discovered

We nurtured the hidden parts
as a pregnant mother

We knew the birth of truth beauty
and goodness was foretold

The archival pen was born
crying ink myrrh and gold

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Image Source: https://unsplash.com/@rafael_barquero