Without Words

What am I without the words swirling around my mind, waiting for a chance to burst forth and explode on paper?  I am the essence of the letters that form words and the words that form sentences and the sentences that form paragraphs and the paragraphs that form papers and the papers that form books and the books that transform lives.  I am all that exists within the pages, eagerly turned, hungry, desperately reaching for that next word that will give meaning to the why and what.  It is breathing, this thing with the pen, can not separate the two, can not separate me, it is the breath of my life.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Standing On The Side Of The Road

Bridges by Tayé Foster Bradshaw

We Must Change By The Hand