A pen, writing on a scroll with a scratching noise
as the prophet of old, wrote the words burning
through his veins, while wolves and beasts
of the night hovered not far away– hating
the beauty written and the paintings
delivered from above.
But no prophet ever quit because of doubting
providing us a lesson – to keep writing,
with laptops and phones on fire, painting
and posting our photographs given,
as we ignore the wolf speak
just outside our windows.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
Based on an earlier work.