micropoem: substitute joy


“there is just something so tangible

real, substantive

about writing with pen and paper”

he wrote,

fingers moving furiously fast

across a computer keyboard.


We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.   – C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory