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Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Word Clouds Gathering

Like a dry Oklahoma field needs rain, I need words. I need to soak in books, swim through libraries. I need to set my pen to the page and flush out the tap in a torrent of words, to stand in a word-storm and feel the cold icy wind cut right through to my heart, whipping my hair about my face and pelting me with sleet like phrases.

I need to stand silently in a stream of words, shivering in the cold night air, and then gather them up in a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. I need to sit on the hearth of a crackling fire, and slowly, slowly let the heat soak in through my skin, while I sort the words, sift through the phrases and let the stories spill out across the page.

I need words to rain down upon my dry, parched soul, to blow through my mind and filter through my fingers, to line up on a page and tell their story out loud, echoing through my body, my mind.

Sometimes, life is dry, barren and oppressive. But even then, I know the clouds are gathering. The pressure is building. The storm will come and pour down a rain of words on me again. Thirsting is never terminal, never a sentence of silence, death. Thirst always comes to prepare me so that I am thankful when the first word-drops sprinkle across the dusty ground and my heart whispers into the wind, “Let it rain, let it rain.”

2 comments:

childlife said...

I'll be waiting with my umbrella : )

Hope you have a lovely Thanksgiving TaunaLen!

Ken Lane said...

"...to blow through my mind and filter through my fingers..." Your pen is a paint brush, madam.

My most sincere thanks for lending your family to my Thanksgiving Day desires. It was undoubtably exquisite. So good, in fact, I had to pull over halfway to Dallas and take a nap in my car to let it all soak it. That, and the turkey in my veins. All in all, an extremely lovely experience.

Peace and blessings to you and yours.
Lovingly,
-The Guy With Red Beard Who Really Digs Your Daughter.

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