Write, write,write

Write, write, write I was born to write I was born for this Fingers dancing over keys As soul sings spewing forth an ocean of words from a heart that pulses with the need to say, write, express what in slumbering deep awakens with the retrieving of words

Do not rest Do not even eat Until you have let out that which wants to flow from the part of you that is remembering, longing, hungering, desiring and grieving. Do not allow the critic to silence what your heart or gut wants to say.  Don’t let the pin they tried to put in your neck become the cork that wants to stopper the bottle when the fine wine within needs to be spilt like ink  Don’t even think Just write

It is what you soul needs and you must still the voices that whisper critical admonishments from the sidelines, “have you walked or even eaten today?” Back off! I will after I have written all I need to write. For today writing is a deeper hunger with me that must be fed for you see these words do no spring full flung from my head but rather are a knowing that lives in cells that must be energetically trans morphed onto the open page

For soul creation issues forth from an inner fire that burns or an inner spring that floods spewing forth or burning up the written page flooding or searing its way into other minds hearts beings cells who also long to write and who in reading recognise deep truths or resonance pouring out that ignite in them the fire and flood as well.