I write because...
Oh, how can I put it into words?
(They were there, just a second ago.
So many reasons, darting and buzzing around in my head
Like dragonflies. Flashes of brilliance, difficult to capture...)
Wait a moment...wait...aha! I've caught some.
I write, because I want to take Color
And translate it into Sound, Smell, Taste and Texture
So that perhaps, I can help a blind man see a sunset.
(That was bit syrupy, wasn't it?
The sentiment gives me cavities just by looking at it...
But it's true, all the same.)
I write, because I want to tell stories worth telling;
To take someone on a journey through time and space and worlds unknown.
I want to build an escape door for people to slip through;
To let them get lost in another place and forget for a while...
Yet at the same time, give them the courage to come back and
Wrestle Reality again with the bit of magic they took away.
And that includes me.
I want to put a band-aid on a scraped-up day,
Make it rain when the sky is too clear,
Paint pictures with verbs and nouns and adjectives,
Give relief to my restless wanderer of a mind.
I want to shine in a world of darkness;
To ignite the spark that starts the fire and sets the stars ablaze.
I want to put thought into empty minds
And replace apathy with passion.
I want to slay the dragons of my universe
With the sharpness of my words.
I write for the pure joy of doing so.
I write to lose and save my sanity.
I write, because Someone commands me to.
I write, because I must.
For this is the truth:
There is a greater hand guiding my pen
A greater purpose behind the words
A greater story than mine
A greater Author than I
And it is my gift, my delight, my quest
To catch these echoes of greatness
And bind them in ink to a blank page;
And some willing hearts, while I'm at it.
Many may read them, or maybe few.
I am a word-weaver, not a fortune-teller.
But if I can touch just one life, stir one soul, open one pair of eyes...
Then my mission will be complete.