Word Drip

I like to be silly and write willy nilly. I like how words sound, they’re so profound. I like how words flow, they come and they go. Yes, it’s time to write. Don’t be contrite. Words are little pieces of hope, of cynicism, criticism and praise. They are magic. They weave spells, create hell and amaze. Words are helpful when not profane and precious when not insane. Really, how silly can you be with this? There’s not enough silliness. Words are too serious. Drop it. Lighten up.

Words, hopping too fast, spell chaos. Words slowly dripping into awareness, feel soft and light. The breath eases when sweet words cross my mind. A peaceful word crossed my mind. Finally. Where have you been? Who could have known that words could be so kind?

Words are symbols of what almost is. They point to an experience, to life; they are but substitutes, not life. Words hold reality away as they swing and they sway. Words drag worn out thoughts and forget the truth. We get caught in wordmires, in the word show and “It’s a really big show.” Words steal our minds. Word robbery. Words capture mind when they play and we think that we are the thoughts, emotions and beliefs they convey. We forget who we are. Socrates pines, there’s no divine. My way robbery. My way is obscured by these wandering, pesky, darting words that nail me thought by thought to a mental coffin.

I built a word door and used words to open mind, to know and flow into a deeper place, a grace place, where velvet words flow into the void. It’s not an empty space, but a place where life brews itself expanding back into words. Words stretch and then contract, taking us out and in. Blessed words that you might be, an opening unto me, so I can stop and look and see, all there is and how to be.