Words To Be

Today I wondered why I didn’t write yesterday and pondered if any writing should appear tomorrow.

The words within beg me to release them. Yes, I hear them even now. Or do I beg for them to be released but know not how? When I hear them, I write not, yet when I bid, they come not. I fear them or do they fear me?

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Oh fear…this dream-killer associate of mine barged in first as an unwanted guest and now refuses to leave. How I’ve grown  accustomed to such presence that I no longer bid it to go. Not wanting to hurt its feelings, I allow it to crush all my mine...my confidence in others, success and me. "What will they say?" fear taunts while attempting to make me forget the call of my words. Yet tonight they scream.

Still no release. I dare not let these words go free until they line up just perfectly. Why? Such an easy task others assume, but as I turn on the faucet to the source I freeze. Do I fear the process, the work of arranging and re-arranging, or consequences of such release?

Will the ink I choose tarnish the ivory white? Is a spot free page more beautiful than a faulty one? The artist must agree to mess to truly create. Still this I need to learn.

Directing water with no boundaries it seems. Flow they must but in the right direction and with perfect time. Boundaries I must seek for such creativity to flow. Perhaps I fear the flood. Will freeing them release a part of my self I am not ready for the world to see?

Only a trickle of words here and there I give, and that is not enough. Not enough to quench such thirst.

The only way to bid away such fear or insane expectation is to find a muse, an inspiration. And so I shall seek wisdom from the 'creator' of creativity, the 'word' who placed the words inside of me…the only one who can speak ‘let there be’ and it is….

May these words Lord, when finally set free, be those approved by mostly thee. 

Making my soul accomplice there 


Unto the flame my heart hath lit, 


Then will the verse forever wear-- 


Time cannot bend the line which God hath writ. 



~Henry David Thoreau