Words
If I could, I would sit at the edge of a sandy shore, tasting the salt from the sea on my lips and letting the soft sand massage my feet. While sitting there basking in the warmth of the sun and letting the echos of the tide rolling towards and away from me, I would flip open a book with words that were all too familiar. Words that poured over me like a waterfall pouring over the edge of a cliff, soft in some places, rough in others, and flowing into a calm crystal clear pool of happiness, love and tranquility. These words are not like any other, they are powerful and connect to form sentences and paragraphs. They become a story, a story written by someone I don’t recognize at first. But as I continue to read, I start to feel like I have been here before. I turn the pages and feel as though my soul is being pulled from deep inside of my core. My reflection is now staring back at me, as I recognize the words that I am reading as my own. I see myself in all that is said and continues to be said. My soul wrote this story, it is mine, and one thing becomes clear as I turn a page to a blank sheet, my story is not finished yet, my best is yet to come.