I do not make melody with vocabulary and grammar.
The words that come out of my fingers don’t lilt or sway or move in very lyrical fashion. I am not a poet.
I use words like a hammer, I think, pounding away at a thought until it takes some shape I am familiar with. Something recognizable, tangible, or at least comprehensible.
I’ve forgotten what Faeryland looks like. It’s been so long since I’ve visited.
I’ve questioned the name of my blog, in fact. I don’t walk about on Cloud Nine lately.
I don’t even have a theme here. I never really have. I write about ALL THE THINGS in my head and heart, and that’s just the way it is.
I’ve gotten to the point where I look back at my Old Self and barely recognize her. Who is she? Have I grown and changed for the better, or am I just getting old and crotchety? The question of the ages, right?
My words aren’t melody. I am not a poet. But – these words count for something. Thanks for sticking with me while I figure out what it is I’m here for.
Grace & Peace,