Memories of Snow

Why I Write

Why I Write

I have to write! I am compelled to form characters into words, words into sentences, and sentences into paragraphs. This is not a physical desire, and it has noting to do with material wealth. The need to write descends from my soul, crosses the umbilical cord of my mind, and inhabits my brain.

Not to write would be a sin against God and humanity. If I could not write, could not express myself in lines and stanzas, my brain would shrink, my soul would wither, and my body would die. I would not be able to eat, talk, and I could do nothing for myself or anyone else.

For me writing is a way to worship God and serve humanity. When I write my spirit grows wings and ascends out of the muck and mire of material existence. It does not matter what I am writing about or what type of piece I am composing. When I write I am ascending into the worlds of God and acquiring knowledge for myself.

When I write I question neither my soul's immortality or its salvation. I see beyond the curtain that separates this world from the next. I feel the presence of God and the Holy Spirit. I can accomplish anything, and I am not alone: not even when I am the only person in the room.

Author's Note: ▼

I'm not sure when I wrote this. It is one of several essays/poems about the reason I write.