Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part nineteen

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part nineteen

Continuing on from a shield strong as stone, watch time stand still with me.

...where words come from

Here, as I type, you are close.
(you are just on the other side of my sentences).

You are watching my face
trying to figure out where words
come from.

You know that I only allow
the true words to come out
to define me,
the ones that have a heart
and smile with me, knowing I said it right.

© 2014 R.E.L. Copywriting

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part eighteen

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part eighteen

Continuing on from all i am, known, part seventeen in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, sometimes I sit and wait, always watching, never veering from the inner smile that makes up my insides and only sometimes shows on my face.

...a shield strong as stone

Watch time stand still with me. Ok? Help me to quietly become one with the search for what is luring me. 

you ask me to be still
and so i do..
you lie hidden within, unfelt
the answers touching you

© r.e.l. 11/26/10 different forms, as treasures

With a shield strong as stone, pushing you away in all directions, I know that you hear what to do next. You are everything, different forms, mostly treasures. You help me become the mystery. You help me let go.

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© 2014 R.E.L. Copywriting

submitted to The Poetic Bond IIII  7/12/14

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part sixteen

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part sixteen

be you, creative

Continuing on from are you a memory?, part fifteen in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, a driving force building words of sentences of stories of dreams. 

...between the letters

In between the letters is a place. To imagine what occurs—as a word is formed, as a choice is made—is to be a step closer to being in that space.

Sentences are made of more than words. Ideas, described. Pauses, illuminated.

…

While the choice is being made, while the thought is formed (as a bubble in the mind, speaking eloquently or as a cartoon), there is a decision. The decision makes its mind up itself.

Words are not taught, nor is creativity. The space to find the words needs to be opened, calmly with confidence.

They ask,

Do you know how? To be you? Then why don't you do it?

Be you, creative.

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© 2013 R.E.L. Copywriting

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part fifteen

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part fifteen

Continuing on from as if hidden, you are this, part fourteen in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, I shoot an arrow and it comes back to me.

...are you a memory?

You are the memory I have known all my life. You float on a cloud, sometimes white, other times invisible. Clouded, yet not. You are me. You surround me with invisibility—a strength that shields.

A driving force building words of sentences of stories of dreams. You are a block that I carefully hold in one hand, and with one eye, as I watch the mountain grow with the other.

What defines us is how well we rise after falling.

Surrounded in a hue, you mumble, “I found it.” And then you float away, ghostlike.

I miss you, ghost.

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© 2013 R.E.L. Copywriting

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part thirteen

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part thirteen

a bridge, never too far to cross

Continuing on from a thought process, part twelve in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, a heart or a mind captures the story. 

...a dedication

Dream, I tear you apart in pieces to unglue what you've become adhered to in search for wholeness. You are a bridge, and are far from broken now.

Vision, detached, floating alone on its own—like a cloud, effervescent—I know you better. For you in and of itself are pure. Without effort I am always looking back at you.

Word, I dedicate all of you to another whole so as to change your inheritance. When grouped, you take on others. I wish to receive the reality of you instead. You help me build my cloud.

Feeling, I know where you belong when you enlighten and make that which you migrate toward more visible—more alive. I am lured by your beacon, highlighting what’s juxtaposed against its chaotic parts.

While I am seeking change, you shine on my purpose.

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Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part twelve

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part twelve

carve your way to that which makes you feel alive

Continuing on from i had no idea, part eleven in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, I never knew until then that I would thank you.

...a thought process

Is it a heart or mind that is captured when a story comes to live on the screen as if concocted as typed? A memory or imagery merges—paints itself across the screen as envisioned—with feelings and colors from a world that doesn’t quite exist, yet does.

And why is it that the light that shines now is any less real than the skin on my fingertips? The light illuminates what is normally dormant, overlooked, passé.

It’s as if the unspoken words say,

thank you for helping me in ways I never could have imagined. You brought me to life. Now alive with purpose, I create, evolve and make dreams come true.

I love to create you too. Wherever you are, close your eyes and pretend you are with me. Even if you are not, in some way you still are. It works. Seriously.

Can’t you carve out a better way for yourself than what you currently allow to drive you?

Yes, but I don’t know how.

Just do it in the same way you’d carve a stone to feel your way to me. I listen. So will they.

Image source: play gallery

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Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part eleven

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part eleven

you set me free

Continuing on from you are, part ten in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, your tapestry speaks of histories.

...i had no idea

I had no idea how it held me captive, until I was freed and felt the rush of releasing sentiment, reaction and response. Once guarded, now unafraid, I spoke.

You scared me with your abilities. And then, that fear floated away on a cloud, now far from here. Far from me.

I never knew until then that I would thank you for the experience that both protected me and hardened me, yet allowed me to see a direct path to a dream, by virtue of knowing what I needed to avoid.

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© 2013 R.E.L. Copywriting

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part ten

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part ten

memories of a heart

Continuing on from green and blue light, part nine in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, I hear you thinking.

...you are

Your tapestry speaks of histories, of memories, and of dreams once lived yet maybe not. You are a heart that I have won. Even my nervous and tender sentences do not put a dent in your undying craze over me.

Sand blows as mountains built over time, over years of wondering and knowing how we would be.

My silence is an intoxicting place of refuge—of rest—for us to swim in. Between us lies a journey of rivers and ripples that have yet to settle into their form.

Image source: Alex Theory

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