The power of words would always amaze me. If my eyes are a window to my soul, then words must be the doorway. The right word formed in the right sentence can make you weep or laugh out loud. I delight in taking words and building anecdotes, embellishing nonfiction that longs to be told. My past that begs to leave a trace with lines, hard hitting lines that deliver an uppercut punch and left hook to the gut. Words transfer thought to paper, infuse wisdom, gain trust. Words can make you sane and words can drive you nuts.
I’ve delivered words in eulogies and sent thoughtful mail to friends. I’ve decorated holiday cards with stamps, stencils, and pens. Colored cardboard cut-out paper with fancy scissor edging, glistening gold calligraphy markers outlined with my prose. I’ve utilized words to write my way through pain in my private journals that nobody else knows. I’ve used words to provide laughter and teaching to a young toddler, to bring cheer to a bereft friend. I’ve wielded words like a sword to wound and punish. And then I’ve used words of atonement to make amends.
The words I’ve used to comfort my life with my voice that to “me” is home. It makes me sad that “I” no longer hear all of my words. So… It’s taken to exaggerated facial gestures, hand signals, and tone from others to catch my attention.
I’ve repeated words like anthems, mantras to keep my spirit alive. Spoken to the Lord Almighty, Holy words aloud in mass. Words of Gospel, words of hymn. Acts of Contrition, forgiveness for sin. “Lord Have Mercy, Christ Have Mercy.” and even “God Dammit”. I’ve recited the Our Father and the Apostles' Creed more times than I can reveal.
“Lord, I am not worthy to receive you but only say the word and I shall be healed”.
I’ve used words to negotiate the business of life and close my own at the end of the day, to make actors famous but, for me, never saw a dime. I've used words to make a swift end, to cut and run and also to bide time. I’ve used words to terminate, procrastinate, eradicate, stimulate, tunicate, ruminate, and resonate. Words I’ve whispered into the sweet ears of those I have loved and those I have only dreamed of loving, dreamy pillow talk on a rainy Sunday morning. Words to woo my enemies, and protect me from myself from myself.
I’ve given up entire lives and the ones before to speak only in Shakespearian tongue and write Elizabethan verse. Words of comedies and tragedies, plays I’ve rehearsed. One word spoken by some can make “those” weak in the knees or gush with anticipation. Words that beseech. I’ve seen more heartfelt words spoken silently in a glance than could ever be conveyed as powerfully with speech.
The hardest words for me are the words that never arrive. Writers block, a missed celebration, a missed opportunity to express myself just one more time, The empty missed words are enough to make me go numb. I’ve sat at my desk in my library hanging on hope against hope, with out any hope -- only for those words to never come. The worst of words are “my words” those that never have a chance to be said and or heard. The words that get filed away forever with regret.
I wonder what words my future has in store. Words on paper, words in print. Words on deeds, more words of repent. Wonderful words I’d given up hope of ever hearing. Baby's first words, words in church I’ve yet to speak. Words that make you strong, words that make you weak. Words that bring sorrow, words that bring fright. Words when the phone rings at 4:00 are like a thief in the night. Words that make me laugh, words that make me cry. Words of truth, words of lie. Words of hello, words of goodbye. Words that dance and words that will be said when alas I am no longer here.
I've reached that moment that point in my life that I never thought I would reach. I am tired of talking, tired of words, tired of speech. And as you can see, just tired in like. I don't want to talk about it, don't want to form a plan. Too much plotting removes the urgency, destroys the passion. It kills the moment that I want to live in, takes me too far away from who I am, who I used to be.
I am not the man I was… Or a fraction of I used to be. As you can most definitely see.
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