There is a sound
Behind words
A voice
And some peoples voices wear elaborate masks
They are hard on the soul
I scrub hand to face
Hair
Heart
Trying to erase their scald.
Others though, tumble cheerily out
They sound exactly as they are
Blessings.
And it doesn’t matter if their words are said or sung or written
It’s all exactly the same rhythm
Authentic.
Long after they are gone
Their words will find a home
In the quirks of my cheek,
softening my heart beat
when I hear them
*I read some old cards the other day. An aunt had sent me a long newsy missive long ago. The lilt and tilt and galloping along of her mind was caught and held within the loopy and loose, difficult to decipher scrawl.
“How lovely” I thought, that is just pure Aunty Pen. I could hear her voice through her words. And it struck me. Our words have a voice almost as clear as a verbal note.
And I thought, I wonder if long after I’m gone my sons could find a post or a poem and hear me in it. Well that’s a nice thought isn’t it?
The header photo I took in a night time dash to fulfil my photo a day streak on Instagram. It’s a rather small thing to get het up about, except that I’m superstitious and I believe my commitment to creative consistency is behind my sudden onset of wonderfully fulfilling inspiration. So I can’t let it slip.
It’s two ambulance officers waiting for their Chinese takeaway (next shop on, not in frame).
It’s not mind blowing art, but the ISO range is impressive on this sensor. Particularly since these photos ended up being quite cropped.
I rather wished I hadn’t been in such a rush (and had my pyjama pants on) or I would have spent more time, and got more and better photos – there is always tomorrow night though.
A couple more, I should have stood very very still. Don’t think I did. Too much of a rush as usual. 🙄
Have a fantasic day and I hope your soul is so on fire with inspiration that it is a warmth in your chest. If not – start a photo streak, they are excellent fun.
