Where Words are Born

You can readily agree that Spring has come to Central Florida, despite what sheets of snow and pelting ice may be hampering the rest of America. The air is warm, the dew drops on blooms, brown leaves yield to new shoots of green. People often question why I am so fond of Spring, but I think the answer is rather simple. I love rejuvenation and rebirth. I love watching the cycle of darkness and dormancy being overtaken by brightness and life. I yearn for Spring because I feel that is when my prose is more poetic, I’m not sure why. Every writer has their own conditions for getting to that place in the soul where words are born, where feelings manifest themselves into syllables, emotions are felt by the reader, and a human connection in conveyance and empathy is made. I require the early sun of a Spring morning, the chattering of birds, the flighty dashing of bees, the dew dripping in diamond glisten from blooming trees. I don’t know why, never have understood it, but there it is. It inspires me, it catches me in silence and leads me easily to that place in the soul where words are born. And I love being in that place, because despite what damage my life might be enduring, I can rest there for a while, contemplate, hold close to a reality that we rarely get to see, but only feel.

Sales have been appalling. Very bad. But, this is why I need Spring. To remind me of brightness and life. We are out of the dark now. We may be flat broke, but we’re out of the dark heading slowly towards the purple hue of a beautiful new dawn. We’ll get there. Somehow, someday, we’ll get there. Spring reminds us that flowers will bloom. Its a promise.

Oh, can you imagine if my writing was able to captivate as well as a top ten single? Can you imagine if just one post was as valid to the emotions of many as a Taylor Swift song? One can only dream. Can you imagine if I were able to use these words that spill through the keys to feed myself with? That’s every writer’s dream. Oh, but imagine the possibilities of my penned prose saving us. So, that’s what I’m comforting myself with today. The dream that these days of struggle will someday be saved by the heartfelt way I can emote the moments of my soul’s struggles.

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One comment

  1. I don’t sell a product, but I have friends who do, and it’s not just you. I guess people are just broke after Christmas. I live in Canada, not far from Ottawa. We have these little wild canaries that are native to our area. In the winter they are green, grey and black, dull looking little critters. I am noticing that they are getting bright yellow margins in their wings. Spring is coming!

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