The sun sets on another day…
So many words have been written. Novels, poems, stories and more. So many words in a simple card, or a complex sonnet. Words are everywhere. They are spoken, laughed, sung, and more, but the ones that mean the most are your words. Those words that come to your mind and that you are willing to share with the world.
I remember a song long ago that said:
Don’t worry if it’s not good enough, for anyone else to hear, just sing, sing a song…
Parmenides said that nothing comes from nothing “Loosely translated” so perhaps we just need to find our words and write.
So today, as I sit pushing words out of my mind I once again take a minute to write to everyone who reads. Today I write:
Snow is falling, days are short, the light fades from the sky
Winters here, the fire burns, and we all just wonder why
Where Frost wrote:
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
and I am sure more wrote far more. I am so fascinated by other writers and the way they write. How different it is from what I do, or how similar, it does not matter, just that they write as well, and in the process we all try to entertain you, the reader, for just a moment.
So as the sun sets on another day, find your words, don’t just think them, write them, if not for the world then for you. Find your words and bare a little of your soul. Don’t rely on everyone else, you are special, use your words, and in the process make the world a better place.
Sleep sweet, love to the moon and back, and laugh all you can no matter what…