Magic of the words
I have spent the morning rhyming with my 7 year old. His poems are vibrant and full of imagination. I love watching him become enlightened when he finds the word he is searching for. I adore that he loves reading and literature, even at such a young age.
It reminds me of my younger self. I remember writing poetry for my mum when I had been naughty. I used to leave her ‘sorry’ poems on her pillow. She always forgave me.
I believe I have had a relationship with words for as long as I remember. Writing provided a way to express how I felt, without having to visually confront the situation.
As I look at myself now, I realise that, my words are an extension of myself. I speak with the same confidence in which I write, however my persona is much different to my writing voice. In writing, I am able to express the deepness which words can sometimes fail. The tone is subjective. The flow is personal. The meaning is optional.
Perception. It is a remarkable concept.
I personally believe that in my words, I am able to reflect on the different versions of myself, and become as one with the person I was, and who I have become.
As I watch my son laugh and become excited about his new written and verbal discoveries, I feel inspired.
The mind of a deep thinker…or complete rubbish…it is all down to interpretation and perception…