Thursday, November 3, 2011

Something to Think About When Words Fly From Your Fingers to the Page

Write, for the night is coming, babies.

Write, for the life you uplift may be your own.

Write, for the joy you give may never be known to you,  yet may be the world to another lost soul.

Write, write, write.

The words may never mean a thing.

They may touch the hearts of a thousand generations.

Write because you must, and write because you can.

Write about what you know and write about what you long to learn.

And babies?

Take a kiss from me, and know you have shelter here in my Writing Cave.
If you stop in and I'm not home?
Light the fire.
Make yourself a drink *I have all your favorite brands of pop and such, lol* or brew up a little gourmet java.

I only ever ask that you play nicely.
If you don't?
I'll be disappointed.
I'll wonder why you waste your time being mean.
I'll reach out to those you seek to harm and drawn them into my fold of friends, and baby, we are legion.

So write a rainbow for yourself today.
Write a bird on the wing.
Write a happy ending to your own sad story.

And laugh, babies, laugh for joy.

It's what I'm going to do.

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