The Pen and the Forge

The Pen and the Forge

Forged through a fire of experience,
the writer's curves come not
from adolescence and childbirth,
but through disappointments, rejections,
followed only by the giddiness of being
entranced by the pen, caressed
by the written word, wooed
by the smile of a lover, a reader
who understands what moves her. .

But the pen in a writer's life
can also be like a lover's tongue,
sharp as a scalpel, to carve, dissect,
to heal. The writer, a surgeon
with steady hands, melds
passion with practice,
weighing love of the craft
against love of man,
with the end result, a patient,
a reader, a healing, a spark.

Forged through a fire of experience,
the strength of the blade comes not
from the natural ability of the maker,
or the innate strength of ore,
but from the act and skill of folding
metal upon metal, heating and cooling,
heating and cooling, layer upon layer.
Only then will it be ready to stretch,
shape, polish, adorn, and put into use.
Only then will it endure blade upon blade.

Writing, like swords and scalpels,
is not for the faint of heart.