Friday, October 5, 2007


Freedom is a word that frightens most writers because most writers of the heart know that freedom is something rarely experienced in published forum. By the time the truth has been chopped up and dissected from the heart of a piece, you're only left with something that is acceptable by the powers at large within your society. When I read Kahil Gibran's letters in, “A Second Treasury of Kahlil Gibran”, I realized what the implications of freedom experienced by a true writer felt like. I could identify with what the soul is experiencing and wanting to share opposed to what our society is willing to hear or accept. This is the challenge before all artists/writers I suppose. Eventually, it seems that it comes down to finding a forum that will allow your voice to be heard, until you are considered worthy, which may not even be until after your death. Maybe we have to just write, come what may and be content as to who receives it. When it is time it will be discovered by those whom are worthy to receive. As writers we are the blessed ones to have received the understanding which we write about. To have the bounty of birthing something into creation is a gift beyond measure. We have to continue birthing so what is within will not spoil. All things within, have purpose without. Just as there are children birthed into the world, that others, see no use for, it is the same for ideas. Everyone and everything birthed has purpose. For those that can see, it is a blessing. We have to keep challenging ourselves to change, rather than maintain only one perception as to how it is now! If change does not evolve ones thinking, then progress cannot be obtained. The organic process of progress is why the same things continue to be written. There are those souls who are ready to receive and it flows forth from the pen for the ones that await its arrival. It is by the grace of something more Divine, that every season brings forth a fresh supply to partake from. What may seem new, is only so for its receiver. Ancient truths exist in eternity, for the discovery to the one whom is on a quest of unfolding its delicacies. To savor its sweetness, is as refreshing as a warm summer breeze. To stand in the essence, of the embrace that holds one to its endearment, is beyond words. The journey one follows in the deep silence to depths of spiraling unfolding, leads one back to the center of true embrace. This moment, fills the soul with a remembrance that cannot be contained. Again the pen flows. Once again, will we be heard? Being heard is not as important anymore as staying in the eternal flow, which begins to take a life of its own.

Submitted by: Brenda Williams/Sacredflower @ The Writers Cafe

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