I must, I can, I love, I write

I write because

I must.

My quiet, my strength, my solitude

lie in this.

Peace is hidden in the mystery

of the written word.

I find myself when I am lost in words.

And my spirit laughs amidst the clattering, cluttering, clanging silence.

My pen is my mouth,

its’ tip, my tongue,

streaming out thoughts, stories, dreams,

like a river.

I can do nothing but row my simple raft

and make sure the waters don’t get too high.

I must.

I write because

I can.

In a world so full of “can’t”s,

throbbing, pulsing with the extent of it,

I can.

“You can’t run”

“You can’t fly”

“You can’t be a superhero”

I can.

I write because

I love.

And loving in this dark world,

this world so full of light and joy, of mystery and shadows

often causes me pain.

But with words of power, words of choice,

words that I shall control, (I can, I must)

The pain of my heart, my veins, my lungs

begins to ease,

brightening into a greater day

with the sun streaming out upon the banks of this rushing river

as I am freed.

I must.

I can.

I love.

I write.