Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
Writing for five minutes.
A sort of writing flash mob.
You have been here, all this time.
You were borne into me in the rushing of waters and the swirling of dust.
Small and frail, perhaps, but you entered the world on holy orders.
You were called into being by the Voice that spoke life into all of creation and, as a result, you have meaning.
You have been known to hide.
For years, even.
Taking refuge in the shadows created by other voices, you believed you weren't as important.
Or as eloquent.
Or as relevant.
But there came a day when your timid little soul could hold back the damn no longer and the words came rushing, tumbling and rattling themselves across time and space.
And, standing there, bare and naked, washed clean by the holy waters, you remained.
And though some days you are an Aspen leaf, shaking wildly in the wind, you are golden.
Fling yourself upon the expanse of creation and sing...echoing, all the while, the Voice that breathed you into being.