Sometimes I have to put the words on paper for the thought to find a home and reach its natural conclusion.
As a writer I have many open projects that go from infancy stage through maturity, some never seeing the light of day because they fizzle out in the realm of materialization.
Yesterday I was given yet another sign that I have a pending date with destiny and there is a message I promised to deliver to a departed friend.
His reminder follows me in form of a number that appears sporadically and without reason, solely to let me know that he is there and he is waiting.
I need to heed the call and take his message and lesson to the world as he encouraged me to do while technically he was ending his shift in this life.
The time is definitely drawing near and I have to place myself in that mode where the voices will speak freely and I will transcribe their words to depict the pictures I want to convey.
I’ve written often about how a thought finds me and forces me to populate the page to deliver a narrative that might mean something to one or to the masses, but the point is that the thought must be expressed. This thought must be expressed.
I am getting ready to write about the experience of living through dying, a subject that is totally foreign to me because I still embrace life. I am ready to cover pages with words that describe illness, hope, despair, goodbye, friendship, love, redemption and faith.
This is by no means original and it has been done before – but it has not been done by me. There is power to be drawn from and by this…once.