Good and Faithful Friends

No words adorned the papers here.
So full, the ink well was.
The quill had waited silently.
The reason? Well, because.

The poems that this poet writes
are few and far between,
and many are the paper sheets
with rhyming yet unseen.

The window sash was raised a bit
allowing breezes in,
that brought to life my little desk
and stirred my thoughts within.

A wisp of air caught paper's edge
and seemed to make it say,
"Oh, please don't sit there all alone.
Let's write of God today."

The puff of breeze caught feathered quill
and drew some ink up too.
God's spirit seized my timid hand
and started something new.

The soft, round curved calligraphy
brought energetic drive
to everything inside that room
and all had came alive.

His Word brings life to everything,
but only if it's read.
for into us, God breathes His truth.
Without Him, all is dead.

God's spirit moves the dust of earth
and draws us to His light.
His Word begins to stir us up.
His spirit makes us write.

God gives us paper, quill and ink
and all the truth He sends,
for He has given to us all,
these good and faithful friends.