Dazed…

Days.. pages in books of journals.. memories and nightmares of experiences… is todays chapter anew, perhaps a new book… the book of your life… what fills these pages within your time… and whom, is really writing them…

Journeys, of light and darkness.. waking up to a new day, within yesterday’s darkness… carrying it into your tomorrows… what kind of a book is this?? seems more like someone caught in a dream.. and can’t escape… whom are you living each day for… words on your book do not lie… souly you, to yourself… one read, upon any of your days… is an ongoing soap opera… complete with characters.. realize… Dear one, you are writing, but rarely reading your own words… expressions, impressions inked on your pages…

Many books… but how many real chapters… seems as though one long chapter… ups and downs, all-around… where do the chapters end, and new begin.. one long saga, mini-series watched…. turning pages, seeking inspiration and support from the book… the reader’s light diminishing.. why this is sad… one book, one life… put on a shelf… lived in default.. responding to bells and whistles, never writing their own words within their pages… pages fill themselves, sadly..

Authors, awaken… come out of your shadows… books mean real things… expressed of strive, love, healing, compassion, or a vessel filled with the worlds’ views… dark and light, poured into the book.. filtered in prejudices… dust off the shelves… open the books… write your today’s upon it.. Sparks don’t just read.. they write.. right.. light……

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