Words

I’m craving words. 

Words looped around and dotted and crossed. 

Words flowing and ceasing and rhyming and completing. 

Words that have no meaning and words with many meanings. 

Words that have adapted and evolved and changed. 

Words that stubbornly retain their unique definitions. 

Words that swell up like music in a crescendo of ink and paper.

Words that persist quietly in the reigning pleasure of silence. 

Words that come easily and words that lurk on the edge of knowledge. 

Words so long that the dictionary cannot contain them.

Words so short you blink and miss them entirely. 

Words that you use to fill in the blanks and words that fill in the blanks in your mind. 

Words that are written, words that are spoken, words that are seen, and words that remain locked away. 

There are many words, in many tongues, and they are diverse in their use.  Some will hurt and some will soothe.  Some will complain and some will give thanks.  Some will direct and some will comply.  Some will possess and some will surrender.  Some will know and some will be ignorant. 

Yet all words are themselves and the words are for everyone.  The words do not judge. The words are an instrument.  The words feel alive, but they must await the final placement of their being.  They are the willing slaves of the understanding mind and bow only to the limits of creativity.  Imagination gives them wings and boundaries give them power.  We are our words and our words are who we are. 

When you know what your words are, you will know who you are.  You will be able to wield them with the care and skill they deserve and win your own place in the pantheon of the scribes.  The stories you bring forth from your words will be your life, though they have never lived before. 

Think long and well before you give up on your words.  They are the jewels of the mind and the fuel of the spirit and the impetus to connection.  No matter where you roam, the words will follow you, patient and secure.  Sometimes they rattle around teasingly, making you quest for them.  At other times they burst forth in a torrent of verbosity.  Sometimes they slip out quietly, almost of their own volition. 

Never underestimate your words.  Never overestimate them either.  They are to be kept balanced, poised on the verge of an ever-slippery slope of utterance.  They may help you and they may not.  You are the final keeper of your own words, so use them well.

There is nothing in your words that hasn’t been seen before, but your voice brings a new strength and glory to the old tired rendition of words.  Your words are added to mine, as I add to yours.  Together we make a dream come into reality.  That dream is folded into the goldmine of others, who will inspire new creations from our unseen talent.  It revives those hiding in the shadows of their insecurity. 

The words that come forth from inside my soul are what make me real.  They make me more than just myself, yet more than just a part of something else.  My soul words are given to me by One more than myself.  The circle of infinity is added to each day and yet is never more than what it was crafted for. 

We are the tools, lending our words—our tools—to the glorious whole.  So . . . choose your words.  Are they brandished as weapons or laid as soothing balms?  There is a time for both; glean wisdom to distinguish one from the other. How will you contribute to the glorious book of Time?  Lovingly sculpt your perfect and imperfect voice into the sincere and the meaningful and the infuriatingly vague words.  All words mean something. 

What will your words say today?