Words

Hello Dear Reader,

Today I’m sharing a short piece of writing.

I have always had an unusual relationship with my muse.  Before the accident, my muse followed me around and threw story after story at me.  I struggled to keep up with the flood of movies that ran through my head and my dreams, struggled to slow the flow enough I could make a somewhat normal life and actually get all the stories down on paper.  Post concussion, there was radio silence.  It was a little scary. I spent much of the first months after my concussion worrying that my words would never return, that the damage was permanent.

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Then the words returned, and I discovered I had a word stutter (a form of aphasia where the wrong word comes out) and  phrase order issues when I write (the words are all there, all in phrases, but the phrases are out of order on the page).  Editing is a time consuming necessity and frustration because I don’t always recognize the problems.  I persist because I know those neural pathways can be built or rebuilt.  Brains are fluid and creative and I refuse to allow this accident to take away my gift.  But it is frustrating to rebuild my writing world.

So I went to a writing conference hoping to meet some local authors,  worried that the accident had broken my connection with that creative part of my brain, that the words would no longer be my gift.  And, during a writing exercise lead by my friend Kat from Dreamers Creative Writing  my muse handed me this poem.

Words
by Eli Winfield

You do not have to be good.
The words will come
Wild on the winds of your imagining
Vivid on the hopes of your heart
Heavy fruit
Falling from the branches, harvested,
pulled from the depths of your subconscious
Watered in the moment
by coffee
by wine
by laughter
by friends sitting across from you
You do not have to be good.
You only have to let go.
You only have to write.

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About Eli Winfield, author

Fantasy, Science Fiction, Techno-Thriller, Paranormal Fantasy: life is too short for just one genre.
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