Write It

It was my first attempt at writing. I remember the setting and the city. The theme expressed my feelings at 19, which seemed to have been a 'crisis point' in my transitioning from boyhood into manhood. That piece has been in my possession for more than 50 years but never printed. I was a moth in a cocoon longing to break free. I was like a baby sparrow I once met stranded on the ground. The difference was that I gave the little sparrow a lift, and he was able to flap his little wings and fly away. I had no one. I was a grown boy turning into manhood without a man to turn to. So I turned to pen and paper to release what was ailing me inside. I should have known back then that writing was a large part of me. I had great ambition, but was feeling alone without guidance or direction. I must have gotten distracted, took the fork in the road that didn't say, "writing". I've been a minister, social worker, counselor, baker, and so many other things, but I only returned to writing 18 years ago. The 'writing bug' never left me alone, surfacing again and again. Now I write. I am eternally grateful that the Lord allowed me to live long enough to write. 090122PS