Create / by M. Dionne Ward

I said I’d give myself a change to be happy, to fix my eyes on jubilant skies of blue and bear witness to the reflection in my eyes gazing on the unknown and new. So I cried a lifetime of cries that lasted an instant, tears heavy, rolling down my face like ball bearings. I’m waiting for a sign. Waiting for a time. Waiting for the “intelligent design”. Restructure. Re: Define.

I said I’d give myself that chance and so I will. I see the power that I wield. A power to create, to build worlds with words and sculpt dreams through brushstrokes. My skill is evident and must be nurtured, so I insist on writing to gain purpose. God insists that I write to glorify him, so I am to do both, praise Him in victory and defeat; hold Him close. Chronicle my days by writing the notes.

The true power is in the freedom to create. The brilliant light that language can generate by placing words and phrases in various ways, brings joy to my face. I cannot tell you how unhappy I have been as of late, but I can tell you that these words are my only escape. And I ask God for guidance, for answers I anticipate, and in seeking His glory I find my fate. I am bound. I am charged. I am destined to create.