In words I find substance, seek refuge,
meaning and solitude. At times I also find torment, grief, and hurt in
syllables. I bind echoes of silence on a raging tongue to gain center,
harness internal wars. I've learned to
capture and pen sunlight, moonlight and shadows for healing my wounded
spirit. Inscribed on my soul are the muddy footprints of my inner
child. My words cradle me at times in strong arms, rocking and soothing
my being.
So powerful are words, spoken, written,
whispered or in song. Lashing out meaning as a whip to flesh --- softly
kissing away hurt in gentle whispers. Truly spoken from the heart,
words turn shadow to clarity. Times --- no words arise, or a
stuttering occurs; a sigh suffices --- the heart drowns in its own murmuring
and yearns for syllables to dry its tears.
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