…Dear writers

The sweet sounds of words weave through my ears.

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Please read to me, in your mind and out loud. Let me hear your beautiful voice form the words somewhere between your mouth and soul.

I
Am.
Running in the desert,
Laying under stars.

Or maybe I may be a spy, in a casino where I’m playing games.

I am standing on a battlefield, with bombs and aeroplanes.
Or maybe in a garden, sitting like there’s nothing more that strains.

Moving with the elephants over cities and the sea.
Riding on a horse, or a tortious or a bee..

And yet, everywhere I’ve been to, everything I see, is in this little binding, this little book I read

Gentle and magic writers,  you give me such a gift. Your wonders will be forever, in this mind you came to stitch.

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