Words…

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Words, words, words, black, brown red, words for which my tears have shed.  It is said that the living word speaks truth, yet one must die to have real proof.

Birth to death we are taught from the Holy text, we will not truly live until sacrifice has been met.  The sky will open the “Just” will fly away, the “Wicked” given a second chance must stay.

Words, are they truth or a means for the pious to lie, and for the answer are you willing to die?  I want to believe, to hope, to live life to its fullest here on earth, and I choose to continue to search.

To taste the lush berries down in the blackberry thicket, to smell the wild rose on the side of the hill, to find a love that will not let my heart be still.  I want to lie in a clover field watching bellowing clouds float by, to gaze at a summer’s cobalt sky.

I want to read poems with my legs dangling over the highest cliff, this…only this will give my earthly heart a lift.  To stare out at forever, on the landscape below, as I pray that my time in the here and now will travel ever so slow.

I want to dip my toes into a frothy sea, to feel the salty wind upon my face and know that I am in the right place.  Here on earth and alone I will survive and I hope that if there is a God he will wait for me a little while.  I am already old, but as surely as I breathe, I am not ready to go. 

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©2016.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

thBPHSKA15“Life is short, live it. Love is rare, grab it. Anger is bad, dump it. Fear is awful, face it. Memories are sweet, cherish it.”

 

 

 

 

 

12 thoughts on “Words…

  1. “I want to lie in a clover field watching bellowing clouds float by, to gaze at a summer’s cobalt sky…”—me, too! Tell you what, if and when i die, and if and when you die—I will come by and let you know how it is…but I am not in a rush.Love your writing! 🙂 Blessings to you!

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  2. This almost sounded like a song, a ballad with a story to be told. I have hope there are second chances, like the way some say “we all fall short of the Glory…” I liked some lines which were playful like hanging your legs over a cliff. . . 🙂
    This is a comforting and moving post, Elizabeth.

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  3. I could not imagine a world without words to communicate our most secret thoughts , beliefs , hopes, and dreams and then we could never speak vocally directly to GOD

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    • I don’t think I would have survived all these years without words, beginning when I was four and my aunt taught me to read and write. She had me journal my summers with her, my mother found them when I was about 10 years old and threw them away demanding I stop such foolishness as I declared I was going to be a writer. I stopped and did not take up journaling for 33 years, when I was alone and no one could tell me what to do. Thank you for your kind comment and for a long ago thought that appeared to me when I read your words. E

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