Why Do I Write?

Why do I write?

There was a time when the words flowed from my hand and dropped onto the paper with ease. In those days long ago I walked with Kings and Gods and we talked of love, war, happiness and sorrow. I shared my dreams with you and could make you laugh or cry with the press of my pen. I scattered my words into the rain so that you might feel the mud between your toes as you ran barefoot through the puddles. I showed you where to find golden trees that glittered with a thousand lights. I could share with you a sunrise that splashed orange marmalade and pink chiffon onto a deep blue canvas. With the ink from my soul, I tattooed my stories into your thoughts.

But I left the muse of my youth behind as life pushed away the youthful dreams and parked it’s minivan on my inspiration. Time covered the mounds of words that lay strewn in piles upon my desk and hid them behind mortgages, 401k’s, and cable bills. Children rushed in and out taking with them my every thought. My life was consumed and I was content. I no longer had a use for words and tossed them into the attic of my mind. Over the years they lay there in the dark, alone and hoping that someday my muse might come again.

Age has little more to do these days than to pry open all the doors of my memories. It has found my words of forgotten rhythms and emotions and dropped them haphazardly into the forefront of my mind. I see that the ink on those words that I once drew from the well of my youthful imagination has dried and faded; but it has not disappeared completely. Now they are with me again. They may be tarnished and blemished but they still cling to life. I will attempt to take those words and clean them until they shine again. They still believe in me and I need to believe in them.

60 thoughts on “Why Do I Write?

  1. Pablo Cuzco

    You have described one of the most eloquent requiems for the wisdom of old age I may ever have read. I share these sentiments, but failed to find the words. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. What an exquisite gift this piece is to me as I wake this morning, Jerry. I love living my seventies with its freedom of time and solitude. Thank you for your follow of Spirituality Without Borders. I look forward to meeting you there in the spaces between words.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Very well said! I’m new here and would normally follow along quietly until I became more comfortable, but this post resonated with me.
    I’ve been struggling recently with a transition that you articulated for more clearly than I. I miss that childlike wonder and easy connection with the fantastic. At times, I suspect this “magic” has disappeared. But after reading your post, I hope this creative gift I enjoy so much has simply transformed.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Why do I write? – is a question that every writer asks of himself/herself. I think, generally, it is because writing is creating something through words. It takes us into a completely different world that it becomes a therapeutic passion for most people. Writing, for me, cleans up the cobwebs in my mind and gives me a clearer perspective of things.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Oh, My Jerry! This is such an awesome post. This was a wonderful, honest and heartfelt piece that was intimate and warm with the wisdom that the years bring – most of the time! You have left so may seeds of inspiration for me to glean. Thank you, My Friend for sharing this memorable piece!!

    Liked by 1 person

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