Poem: There Are Ways

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Words cannot be stopped
even if the world ends tomorrow
and computer screens go silent
there are ways.

Pens scratch by candlelight
lines chiseled in stone
subtle pattern woven in fabric
text scrawled in blood.

Talismans in ivory
inscriptions in marble
parchment torn up and
line a dictator's coat against the cold.

Burnt ashes in wind
to nourish the trees grown
to make the paper
for daily paragraphs.

Ink on skin in
intricate patterns meant
to be pleasing to the eye
and stimulate the brain.

The voice cannot be stifled
by the folly of man
and even if it is not obvious
there are ways.

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