Writing and dreaming

Weaving and screening

Hope

Despair

Inward searches

Word bricks

Tower of Babel

Is it enough that I speak that which I can understand myself

Does it make sense to speak when no one else can?

Caught in a bubble that will not burst

Why do words mean what they mean?

Would thoughts matter if words don’t?

In the beginning was the Word

And the Word was with God

And the Word was God.

Slicing through the static and chaos of colliding waves

Came the pure, true words

‘Let there be…’

Light shone out of darkness,

Life came forth out of nothing,

A breath-filled fistful of clay

Took shape, moved, thought his first thought

Uttered his first word.

I wonder what his first word was…

My daughter’s first meaningful word was ‘Dada’

An imperious command

For her dad to stop in his tracks

And turn to her.

Did Adam cry out ‘Dada?’

Did God stop and smile and whisper,

‘Yes, that’s good!’

By the word of the LORD the heavens were made, and by the breath of his mouth all their host. Ps 33:6 

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