slowly, as if islands emerging from the fog, the words come
some are welcome…received with anticipation…others are painful, difficult, unpleasant
words of beauty, joy, and promise…words of pain, loss, and tears, all fall onto the page
the spaces between are moments of struggle, fight, and rage…moments of peace, comfort, and acceptance
somehow, i assemble them into a pleasing form…one day a single word appears, the next they tumble from my fingers
read from the page they speak survival, growth, and love
spoken, they pierce hearts, and uplift souls
slowly, the words come
©️2019
lingering son 