The river underneath
A river of words flows underneath my life. It's soft whisper becomes audible when the rest of the world goes silent.Events encountered change the muddy bed, the form of its banks, or just the sundance on the surface.
All this time not writing, I thought I was neglecting my dream. It seems instead I've been thinning the crust, so the riversong speaks clearly.
posted by Diana Troldahl at 5:39 AM
1 Comments:
Yes, I can see the truth in this. We tend to see breaks as negligence or disinterest, when it fact they can simply be a parting of the waves so that something magnificent can be born.
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