Blank

I'm scared.
I'm scared of the blank page. Staring back at me.
I'm scared of the words that could cease to be.
I'm scared.
I'm scared of the open book.
Of that first look.
I'm scared of the open page. Staring openly back at me.
I'm scared...





                                    ... but why should I be?

I see; the open page, and brand new opportunities.
I see; the unwritten word, and breathing seas.
I see, and entire new world; open, and staring back at me.


But why am I afraid?
I'm not.
Are you?
No.
Why?
Because, I have no reason to be.

I do not fear the open page, the piece so blank and unscathed.
I do not fear the words, should they come near.
I do not fear.
Do you hear me?
I do not fear.

No open page, or shallow book, no rippling river, no babbling brook.

I fear no blank page,

then what is it, that you fear?

Nothing.

That's the point. Don't you get it?

I have no fear.

I fear no page that has no written word.

But even so, the written word, of blank page is set, do you fear it yet?

No. My answer is plain and simple.

Haven't you figured that out yet?

My fear is not in control, is has no hold on me.

I fear no blank page;

because,

my

dear,

how can you fear an empty page,

when nothing's written yet?

Do not fear the empty page, for it is but a beginning.

Don't fear to begin,

because that's just the thing,

it's not an end,

it's new.

Don't fear the words, or the page, 

staring back at you.

It's waiting,

just for you.

Blank©Mae Fort