Words...

To write when nobody's there
to speak without talking
to communicate without a listener
why do this thing called writing?

To write when nobody cares
"you're talking to the wall"
am I talking then at all?
one wonders on some days
   sitting all alone in one's home.

To write when nobody dares
"what difference does it make?"
I hear the same ringing in my ears
the fight or flight, the fright
    to get naked before a clothed world.

To write when there's nothing to say
when writing is a way to 'seek and find'
  a game of hide and seek,
a medium to assist in finding something to say
a mouth no tongue can fit into
a pencil-tongue that finds words for worlds
a muscle for the mind to move
   lest is lay restless, listless
      - stuck to the roof yet another day.

To write for the simple love of language
"who does that? Freaks of nature?"
if a tree falls in the woods does it make a sound?
if no one's there to hear it
see it, capture it.
  - if only for one's pleasure--is that enough?

To write for future generations
in hopes they too care to carry the weight
to take their place as keepers of the flame
to fan that flicker when no one's cheering them on
to reach back in order to move forward
  - will they ever glance back?

To write to see thoughts on a page
if a picture paints a thousand words
could a word paint a thousand pictures?
In a world of screens and memes
can words keep up
  - can the tortoise still beat the hare?

To write "even if"
quill to parchment, digits to keyboards
knowing it may suffer loss or burial
lying cold and forgotten - underground
  - at best a seed to sprout like Dead Sea Scrolls
       found accidentally, providentially by a shepherds stone
       "but even if they aren't..."
          they're still in that cave, right?

To write without reason or rhyme
instinctually almost, no questions asked
it just is--self-evident and sufficient as such
no purpose save one,
   to let oneself do what it wants

if the heart has it's reasons
reason knows nothing of
then write away, little boy.
unhindered by the phantom feelings
unhaunted, undaunted by nameless nudges

If children are to obey their parents in the Lord
for this is right
then certain men must write
for this is right
though life mustn't stop at words alone
but lead toward action and truth
   it seems to me, words beget that latter both
     
To write for the love of it
faith, hope, a love
the greatest of these being love.
action, faith, and words
the greatest of these is words.
   for words are bones that all hang off
      hang on.  And to hang on someone's words
        well, that is just it.

For when God decided to come to earth
to take on form and feature
He came with a name
The Word.
   the word became flesh, yes
    but flesh came from word.
      the Word was with God.
        the Word was God.

To write is to honor the word, "word"
the person, "Word".
Needless to say.
But I have to say.
So I say...and keep saying...