This is beautiful and it speaks so close to my heart.
There are days that remind me why I put pen to page and scroll words across dates and capture time itself. I write to catch moments and in the catching hold them sacred. And in the holding seek to understand. Maybe not all, but more.
Today arguably one of the greatest voices in contemporary literature went on to heaven, but yet her voice lives on in her letters and lines sprawled across dates, pages and decades. Her words that captured time and held her world sacred so we too can understand. Poverty and violence and pain. Persistence, triumph and joy.
Tonight she reminds me why I write. It isn’t to produce a masterpiece, but rather to master the pieces of my world and see them be woven into something that reveals Him in the weaving. He is Poetry. He is Story. He is Song. And there is…
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