An Ode To The Written Word

Writing is the truest form of magic.

it creates battles more real than the ones we fight internally every single day,

it gives us worlds more real than our own,

it turns us inward and makes it look outward,

it lets us talk to ghosts,

we commune with the dead when we find words better off unsaid,

we find the deepest reaches and look into the dark corners of our soul,

it finds us when we can’t find ourselves,

it creates a future for us to step into,

it looks into the past to see what we’ve done,

it furls and folds and hurls into our emotions,

tears aren’t the only emotion found,

it tells lies, and tells the truth,

it finds our heart before it starts beating,

it cries tears before we start breathing,

it knows us before we know ourselves,

it creates books to put on the shelf, to look at collections of brain matter,

every single fiber and stitch and moment gets woven into an eternal thread, only lost to fire,

in bits and bytes, paper and pen, the words are meaningful even when we start again,

even when we can’t find our way they help to direct us back home,

it creates bonds and friendships, with the real and imaginary,

it locates us in a world where we feel lost, it teaches us to teach ourselves, it opens and closes, it heals and makes us feel.

Words are my life and I hope they’re yours too. A record of our own lives, seen through our thoughts and through our minds, made true with our hearts and finally the fingertips do the work, the hardest work of all, the work of giving birth.

My legacy will be written.