Writing and Running

These days I'm not sure what kind of writer I am. I'm still writing very little and my love affair with words is on again off again at its best. There is no tension of push pull dogged determination like there use to be. Maybe thats a good thing. But I do know writers need to be persistent and devoted and passionate. I am none of these right now though ironically I felt strong enough to write about it. I guess God will have to talk to me about this feverish creative thing in me or stir it up in me. Although I'm not too terribly worried about it. But I wonder how you all would feel. Those who love my writing see my potential and what I could do if I was persistant. What if I really decided to never press it anymore. Would you be o.k. with the now of what I have become? I've decided to try and do some physical activity and focus on running...or an attempt at running. I have running shoes and an ipod. Maybe that makes it official. I just wanted to see if I could and to see how far I could get. I'm starting slowly but I like my rythem. A passing pass time for now I suppose. I love the sun. It lights me up from the inside out.

Sun

There is a rhythm in my hands. A river in my hands. Forgiveness in my hands. Words become symphonies within these reaching palms. I cannot hold the world within me and all its intricate beauty. Even sunlight whispering on grass becomes too much for me. Knowing that there are cleanslated stars anchored in a jubulint sky while walking becomes too much for me. I can only let it all wash over me in the blinking of an eye. And it leaves me longing. I can hold onto nothing. I am the grass. And it is only God who takes hold of me.