I most crave the words when I most feel the mess,
because order comes through the sorting of things,
even when baring and searching take me to tender places
where I’ve let it get murky.
Truth and light pierce, but needfully and healingly so,
and when my word-work falls beside other necessaries or excuses,
I feel the search in me.
It finds me in the pages of other’s labors,
and calls me to take beauty from today, which usually involves
a call to make beauty for today.
I know this doesn’t mean good words from every pen on every day,
some souls have other ways of light-bearing,
and some days need better ways of love-giving,
but for today, from me, words.