Everything is energy. At the core of every living thing, exists a yearning to exist. There are some things we are sure of… that we are living, breathing and here…now. The question that always resonates with most, is why?
Some know exactly why they are here. Some spend their entire lives searching for an answer. And some are indifferent. However, that is their choice. That is the beauty of being. We can choose.
I do believe though, some fates choose us. You do not have to believe that, and I cannot speak for everyone, but I feel poetry chose me. I didn’t always choose poetry though.
I started writing short stories at around 5 years old. They were accompanied by tattered illustrations of my imagination. The pictures had resembled the world I wanted the reader to see. A few years later, I discovered Shel Silverstein’s, “Where the Sidewalk Ends” and fell in love with poetry. I started writing my own poems.
Life happened. Things (some that I will soon reveal) happened. And I turned my back on the love I had for weaving words. Feelings became too vulnerable to feel and I had long forgotten the purpose that lay within me.
Time has passed since then, and I feel that all these years have taught me that nothing is more beautiful and sacred than expression. I long to share that with others, in hopes of passing on good energy, the type of energy that can alchemize the longing of even a semblance of what is truly within us, to be expressed.