The following prose poem was written about the kinds of impact and influences words have on reality, recognizing the power of language, and the importance of intentional writing.Each beat sends a ripple through time and space – a thing we can never take back. Each utterance from lips, stroke of the pen, and clickety-clack of the keys is a tidal wave through creation.It is impossible to deny the impact of such a thing – the power of the word. The word.Any word.Hate. Crime. Shaman. Love. Friend. Sadist. Intuitive. Hit. Narcissist. Ignore. Ally. Bigot. Advocate. Dreamer. Skeptic. Win. Um. Uh. Sorry.Even the words we do not say are the breaths between wingbeats. The words of omission are just as important as those spoken – written – heard, each creating wakes that capsize small crafts. Those thoughts between lines signaling rejection or apathy. The, “of course I love you!” and we finish with “just not like that.” The, “that’s really unique,” and we mean “so butt ugly.” The double speak of wealth and consequence causing us to snort, or cry, or cringe.Words.These words change reality, building it up, breaking it down, morphing it into something unrecognizable from the moment before. Every article read, every sentence, text mesage, and micro-blog post… what was once is no more! Declaring a new existence in the span of a second, words leave us at a loss.What is real? Who has power? When these wordsmiths work like Hephaestus, can there be a question?I do not say these things by way of self-aggrandizement, but rather in warning. Do not speak so thoughtlessly, as to throw words around like so much garbage, a dysentery of the mouth. What kind of havoc that wreaks! What kind of hurt, hate, and wanton violence! Measure words carefully, and guard against those who do not. Take care when reading and listening to the words of others that you should let a new reality wash over you without your full consent.High on Olympus wordsmiths forge, constantly shaping reality to our wills. The difference is we know what butterflies we unleash, conscious as we are of this power. How terrible for demigods to do the same, unconscious, unaware, trampling all those too near.Beat. Breathe. Beat. Crack a spine. Beat. Curse. Beat. Caress.Here I sit, comfortably looking down, armed against demigods, destroying violent insects as best I can.“Sweet creature, what beautiful wings you have! Settle here on my finger, as I survey this new world.”If this poem resonated with you, please connect with other intentional writers in this group here, and join my challenge for tips on building an intentional life based in unconditional love here. Read interviews with intentional writers and bloggers here.
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