I was fossicking through some material this afternoon and came across the prose below that I had written in July last year. At that time I was reflecting on the power of speaking our truth.
Often we don't speak our truth and the word is unspoken, unborn.
Other times we speak a form of truth basically to please another, then our words our bound by the other, they are throttled.
It is only when we give ourselves freedom to speak our truth breathed into gentle existence that our words have impact.
The Word unspoken
A legacy of what might have been
A space where beauty may have arisen
A contraction of nothing into nothing
The Word bound
An abused thing
Twisting of reality
Shapeshifter of chaos
The Word created in truth
Breathed into gentle existence
In wondrous silence
And the energy of eternity parts to make space,
To make place
For the Word.