Imagination

Black ink mars pale paper in cursive letters

Points, slopes, and curles write with the gentle words of the wind

All it speaks is the journies of far travelers on choppy seas and rough terrain 

Liquid colors converse between lead lines

Bulbs pop in the artist's head

New creations appear on paper

All it speaks is human struggles and endless dreams

Printed notes on long black lines

Fingers pressed on cold metal

Song flows out in soft melodies

All it speaks is the emotions of many a person

Rubber balls bouncing on waxed floors 

Shoes squeal in agony

Labored breaths push from unfulfilled lungs

All it speaks is release

Black and tan plastic pieces place so on checkerboards

Timer ticking softly in the background 

Hands speed to a miniature golden bell

All it speaks is the infinite equations of the mind