My ambition for a lack of a better term is to weave words that draw men together in the common pool of humanity, to shine a light on the pillars of my heart, in order for others to catch a glimpse of their own,
"Our Words Unspoken "
June 19, 2001
My Dearest Carla,
I scurry home to embrace my parchment, friendly and fair. As I begin immediately to transpose the words lingering and busy in the realms of my heart to paper, I am suddenly mindful of the many words of beauty that merely fall by the pathways of my heart, never fulfilling their inherent right and privilege to be given audience. Carla, the words never cease in their insistent parading, and traipsing about in my heart and mind, but yet they all find not the parchment as a seed seeks out the rich soil of the earth; in order to push it’s way to the surface in order to be recognized and visited as well as greeted by the warm and nurturing suns rays. Carla, my dear, my friends the words sing to me upon the pillow of my mind as I seek to find sleep at the days end, they serenade me to the time of expiration my of body that finally wilts at the end of the day. I wonder and am concerned for these little fellows that never find peace that can only be realized when they fall upon parchment and finally sigh as they realize their goal, to be recognized and heard, each singing a differing tale of love, despair, loneliness, all couched and postured in pondering and depth of nature.
Carla, I write in order that souls may be knitted together in a bond of love and familiarity. I seek to give voice to the quiet in nature as well as bellow out and trumpet the hearts of the enraged due to injustices they have survived. I seek to give breath to the hearts of many, while whispering my complex nature upon parchment, hoping many shall view themselves mirrored in my words of heart. My ambition for a lack of a better term is to weave words that draw men together in the common pool of humanity, to shine a light on the pillars of my heart, in order for others to catch a glimpse of their own, to stir the waters and dreams men keep penned up tight inside their hearts in order that their dreams may be unleashed in glory, to be swept across the landscape of time. I seek and hope to create words that many may find refuge in, and a place of safety in knowing they are not alone. I seek Carla to fly others to the moon on the saddle of my words, perishable and both lasting depending on the soil they visit. I seek to enable the just, humble and honest of heart as well as to disarm the wicked man indeed. I seek for men to bond in excellence and heart, my desire is that when men view my words, they stop and ponder their present path wandered, as to the value or lack of, I seek to unleash brilliance, as well as loose the genius kept imprisoned in the hearts of many who deem themselves unworthy of singing their heart songs.
My desire of heart through my words restless and wandering is to bridge the detached among us to the hearts of the mainstream, to merge hearts if you please, once recognizing the value indeed we hold for one another, to awaken men to the need of friendship, pure and unwavering, as well as the necessity to stretch one’s self into the arena of another man’s heart, through honest means, expecting nothing but love in return, a selfless journey that puts mans heart at peace.
Carla, often pretty words fall by the wayside, never noticed, their power and ability to transform never realized, for they merely never found the parchment they searched after so diligently, many times due to a writer and composer, uncommitted of heart, or merely unenlightened as to the powerful nature, ability, and explosive power of these orphaned words. Carla, these words unwanted and unrealized yet full of potential often represent a hammer merely searching for a hand to wield their dreams, willing to strike the blow in their name, all men have hands, but words have none! We have a responsibility to the words we carry in our hearts, helpless unto themselves to give voice! To handle then, then hammer them into the hearts of others, whether it be soft blows or hard, while the day still sheds light. For most words as people, linger about only for a season, if we entreat them not, they merely vanish, retreat and run away; they run to the arms of another who shall indeed recognize their value and place and importance in the time and season of mankind. The words Carla, that are shaded by a man’s heart need sun to grow, in order to fashion the character of the man wherein they reside, for indeed most words squelched, represent the best side of mankind never spoken, the soft side, the side of mans heart that yearns to be loved, as well as seeks to administer the same said commodity, rare I might ad among us this day.
Carla, the words that ride high upon a man’s heart are to be spoken, and cast to the wind as jewels, rare in form and individually suited and handpicked to nurture and nourish the heart of another, our words if they be peaceful and love filled can create a rainbow of splendor and hope in the heart of another, who lays weak and impaired of heart.
Carla, I write in order to melt men into a circle of love, knowledge, and peace, and speckled journeys of heart that end in a place called paradise. I seek to open wide my heart in order to show mankind that there is indeed no shame in bearing and displaying feelings, soft and gentle, as that of a dove. I seek to repair the heart of the injured by displaying my tiny and yes, wilted courage and fading valiance upon parchment. I seek to loose freedom in the heart of man, by mastering the art of confession, gentle and pure. I seek to challenge the hard hearted in order that they may retreat from the cold vault in which they dwell, so as to experience the cleansing purity of the sun, which bleeds our hearts of such foolishness, and guarded behavior.
Carla, I spill my words upon canvas in order to illustrate to many, that when our words of sincere heart are released as a geyser bursts forth, that it breaks the power of the darkness of night, filled with dread and imbued with doom, and then yes, carries us into the light of day! Carla, all children even realize that most terror lingers and lurks only in the night where words go unspoken. I merely speak this day of sharing Carla, the healing ointment of sincere verbal intercourse, interlaced with gentleness and beauty, when our desire gives way to our hearts words abounding in our being, then surely we shall be free.
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