Sometimes words follow me around. I can’t seem to get away from them. They crawl out of my heart before my hands
are ready.
I’m walking around or working
or hanging out with a friend and the words start to push out. “HEY!
Stop a minute and get a pen! You
can’t even believe what we just saw!
Didn’t you see that? Didn’t you
hear it? The smell of those
colors!! Write this down quick before
the words run away
.”
.”
Sometimes they do, run away, that is. Like a rainbow dancing on a rain puddle, they
dry up, float away, and are gone in the mist of the morning.
Sometimes they don’t. They stay. They walk along my veins waiting for me to
sit still long enough to let them fall onto the paper.
I see words everywhere and hear them calling to me.
I see them on the branches of a spring birch dappled with
sunlight and raindrops.
“Isn’t that beautiful?” she said.
“What?” he answered.
“The tree. The
light. The branches. The Springiness of it. All the new hope and promise of Spring is
dancing in that tree.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
I know that my eyes are different, but I didn’t make them
that way. I know that my ideas are
odd. But life just grabs me. I see the moment in a snatch of time and I do
my best to live it. Sometimes the
moments are golden and take my breath away.
Sometimes they are deeply sad and I have to fight the tears to just
carry on.
The words of these experiences pile up in my veins until I
let them breathe. I’m not sure why I was
made this way, but I was. I can’t
anymore stop the words from living than I can stop myself from breathing. It’s how I see things. How I feel.
If there is ever someone who will understand the words and
be drawn to my side, he will understand.
Until then, I will do my best to help others
to stop, smell the roses, and see Spring dancing in the trees.
