Why I Write
I write for the same reason
that blue is blue and red is red.
I write because that is what I am.
Words are my sport
and my art
and my discipline.
My bones are words
and so is my flesh.
I am held together
by an understanding
I would never have found
if I didn’t write.
Words are the road I am choosing to take
to become who I will one day be.
Who I want to be.
Who I am intended to be
if there is any purpose in our universe.
Words wed us to our creator.
When I write,
I talk to a part of myself
that is united with the whole
and I become wiser in my everyday life.
Words are how I bring my dreams into reality
by creating a pathway between the two.
Words are the power I have
over the greatest things that I am subject to.
They are the only part of me that no one can take away.
In times of danger, they become thoughts.
In times of safety,
they venture again onto the page.
I write because it is what weds me to a past
I have been long divorced from.
I write because it shows me a path into the future.
I write because it is through writing that I become my best self.
I write to show my fear,
my admiration,
my love,
my revulsion.
It is like a bleeding,
getting these words out––
like a forced birth.
I write because it is the only thing I’ve ever found
that I have felt I am meant to do.
If I am a fish,
words are my water.
If I am a bird,
they are my sky.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 