The Writer's Obsession
by Edie Melson
I write because I must.
A spark jumps, something begs be shared.
A time of silence, without words,
Icy darkness.
Then the flame flickers and the words pour forth.
Divine inspiration on paper.
As I write I touch the One who wrote the world into existence.
A God of words, Creator on High.
I am made in His image.
My soul communes with the divine when the words pour forth.
I write to touch others, I write to touch myself.
The thoughts inside beg to be expressed.
Sometimes they fall like lead, heavy thuds, without an echo.
At times they are like feathers, lightly floating out of reach.
Then there are times when they fall like water, pouring forth, satisfying
A worth of their own.
The drops become a river, inviting others to drink.
They take life and speak
I write because I must.
Painful times, when the words don’t come
The icy silence of the an empty page
Glorious times when the words flow with grace, sweeping across the pages,
Answering divine echoes within my soul.
Words are my craft, they are my blood, poured out.
Meter, rhyme, cadence, rhythm.
The words take on a life of their own
I write because I must.
My soul longs for expression.
I want to touch others the way I’ve been touched.
Reaching out, offering hope and comfort.
Never reaching down, because I’m never above
Let the words flow
A writer’s soul is deep.
The thoughts have roots
Sharing is painful, a nakedness of self exposed.
Vulnerable, shy,
Driven.
The words express who I am and who I want to be.
My words are my becoming.