The Story Behind the Poem (My Purple Pen)

 

As I glance down at my purple pen, I see it has become my friend, my tool, a beautiful extension of me!  I feel lost without my purple pen.  I  have many stashed away, ready for use!

 Almost nine years ago, after my husband died, I remember finding this pen at Target.  First, purple is my favorite color, and secondly, I remember thinking about how I needed something new, different, and simply pretty.  It wrote beautifully and glided so well across a page. 

 It became so much more than a pen; it is an extension of me, the real me, and a tool to craft what was inside desperately needing to be set free. I felt empowered with it in my hand because I could feel the creativity that had been swelling inside and coming to the surface.  (The first title of this blog was "The Hidden Me.")

 In the beginning, darkness, and sorrow covered the blank page.  Each time I would reach for my purple pen, I could feel the light filling spaces once filled with darkness. More areas opened, and more and my heart and soul began to create once again.  No longer steeped in sorrow unless I needed or wanted them to be.

 So much more than a pen, a new path, a new me, a new life opening, and shining with love and divine light.  My purple pen is witness to the new and improved me, and it has been integral in the process. 

 

 

My Purple Pen

 

Each time it touches the paper

the purple ink speaks soothing words.

Sometimes angry thoughts are

transformed in mid-air

by the glorious purple color.

It is saying,

look at this,

I am different.

I am out of hiding.

I am the real you.

We can do this!