Walk to the park and stand under a tree. The wind will come. When the sound of the wind in the leaves obscures the whine of traffic on the freeway, you will know bliss.
When we write, we distill to essence what we have received from nature, from experience, the sweetest and most bitter times of our lives.
When our writing takes the reader to that place where the sound of words obscures the noise of society and worry, they will know bliss.
In this way is our writing a sacred practice and an art.
6 comments:
you can learn a lot from a tree...
The wind more often then not becomes my muse, be it a summer storm, a fall blow through the leaves, or whistling through the empty branches on a cold blue winter evening. I agree you can learn a lot from a tree, or maybe it’s the wind making it speak to you.
anthony, thank you for your poetic voice.
and maybe it is the tree using the wind as voice, much as a singer channels breath--either way, i believe the spirit is speaking...
And you writing and your words do that for me everytime I visit your blog and read apost and the ones I have missed. Thank you.
Transporting the reader to another place that's been created for them with words is the ultimate goal of a writer.
Pat
www.critteralley.blogspot.com
dear ralph and pat, you are keeping me going...thanks
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