The words seem to spill forth like the rain.
At times they come gentle like a fine mist,
Often they stream forward like a mighty storm.
I celebrate the words for they prove I am alive.
They speak my heart and lighten the burdens of my mind.
Let the words come!
For when there are no more words to feel,
There will be no more struggle, there will be no more love.
Like all of creation needs the rain,
I to live need the words.
Photo by Lilly Schelling © 2015
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