Language

Here is a little something I wrote a month ago that I was too embarrassed to put on the blog. But it's found it way onto my blog somehow or another.

Language

The wind is blowing softly, Its a perfect Friday. I suppose God decided to prove that his mercy would be new this morning. He didn't have to prove anything on my account but, still, he did. The week is through, work is done, classes out, and its a mild sixty degrees in early February.

I just finished my Spanish class, much to my relief. My mind scurries back into its comfortable nest where it is comfortable. Where my mind can think and sing and say. Words of English flying through my mind and now flowing off my pen provide comfort. How comforting it is to be able to write what I think, and how I feel. How comforting this language is. This language is my home, where I live. Where I know nooks and crannies and alley ways and neighborhoods. Where I run and play, and work, and paint. This language is my home. Where words are life and language is everything.