The Sacred Gift
Forward
From childhood I was gifted with the word. At first my words were used to communicate with those I shared the world with. As I grew, my vocal words were silenced by caregivers that wanted to keep me controlled, silent and small. This directed my voice inward where I struggled with emotions, hurt and pain that manifested themselves into physical illnesses that would continue to grow with me over my lifetime. Even with being young of years these words started to spill out on to the page in the form of poetry. Writing gave me an outlet for expression, once the words were expressed a peaceful feeling brought comfort to my Soul. As time marched on, life with all its nuances kept my mind busy and my writing became sparse. My life was full, loud, busy, and occupied which in turn seem to negate need to write.
Then there came a time once again when writing the words became essential to my survival as deep love and deep pain coaxed it forward. These were ‘my’ words from my life experiences, I struggled with their composition and flow. As the years went by, I devoted considerable solitary, protected time to my writing to nurture it along. Somewhere along the way there was a shift, and in this subtle shift the words began to flow from another place that circumvented my human mind altogether. The words were familiar to me and true they sounded like my very own thoughts but they were not. These words were light, easy, and precise. They would start with a word or a phrase that I felt from my Soul were urgent to write down. They were heavy with meaning and their cadence pure somehow untouched by the human mind. Without realizing it I began to transcribe these seemingly Sacred words onto the page.
The gift of these words presents themselves to me in a scant second. The word births a thought and the thought a phrase with no effort on my part. With pen in hand I scramble quickly to write the words in perfect order on little scraps of paper that lay in wait at the ready. Time is of the essence, for as quick as the hummingbird beats its tiny wings it is gone in a flash. The words organized in thought form are gifts to me from a Divine and Sacred place. This place lives deep inside my core and visits my heart and Soul before my mind takes hold of it and translates it into human understanding. These words are truly a gift, as I am but a vehicle that has been chosen to deliver them to the world. I embrace this sacred gift that has been bestowed upon me as it has been a joy in my life, cataloging the words in proper order and delivering them in the form of a poem or verse to the waiting world.
–Susan Kubert 3/1/12
