inkblots

“You can't exist in this world without leaving a piece
of yourself behind.”―Jodi Picoult

the marks i leave
          are more than inkblots,
for i believe
          they touch the right spots
on every page
that they engage,
          in times of peace or days of riots.

i leave a splash
          for youth at random,
whose balderdash
          may one day blossom
out of the rage
of this dark age,
          whose inkblots hold the world to ransom.

i leave an ode
          for those who wander
along a road
          that leads them yonder,
where evening falls
amidst their calls:
          regrets for all their foolish squander.

i leave a song
          for morning lovers
who stroll among
          fresh-blooming flowers.
fill all the earth
till the rebirth
          of inks whose ken the whole world covers.

© Copyright 2023 October 08
by Clyve A. Bowen♫