The Consolation of Words (Its’ second appearance)

When there’s nothing to write

Don’t stop dropping

letter after letter, digit after digit

Trade punctuation for desperation;

Reinvent observation by this

silent conversation.

What is writing but one thought strung

together by straight lines and curved ones

sitting on the page’s bench, or

swinging below like restless legs,

or rising high above like a child stands

on the subway seat to look outside

Those letters, like beads, strung on

necklaces called words,

living and breathing and stirring

the air with sound waves,

each one a ringing symbol,

each character laden with

all the expectations of heavy hearts,

bursting minds, untested emotions

When puzzle-pieced together,

like so many orphaned bits of sound

a cacophony of tongue clicking,

rubbing and lifting off teeth,

creating this symphony we call speech

But what is sound without sight?

Why should we live with one sense deprived?

And sometimes there is just too much sound

and not enough substance…

So we write to give texture to the silence

and fullness to the swarm of empty words

flung into the expanse of the sky

When there is nothing to say,

Don’t stop writing anymore than you

would stop breathing, or praying

or painting, or loving, or believing,

or living.


2 Comments Add yours

  1. aabsofsteel says:

    I love this. “…like so many orhpaned bits of sound…” Beautiful.


    1. Julie I A.M. says:

      This is one piece that I definitely know was about a 100% God assist. I wrote it on a train after seeing a ballet with Emily one night. Thanks for your love of these words…



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