Yesterday, I woke up and my thoughts were poetry. It was like my spirit was singing.
I have words racing through my mind all the time. Yesterday, they were dancing through my mind. They weren’t frantically striving for function… they were playfully and gracefully interacting with one another and finding beauty.
It was like the difference between rushing to a meeting and walking in the mountains, just to walk. Such walks have purpose, but their joy and life isn’t squeezed out for the sake of greater efficiency.
The difference in the words that morning wasn’t a matter of mere pace. The words did move more slowly and casually, at times, just as I may take things in and progress more slowly in a walk through nature. But, in moments, they also had that energized quickness that the mountains so easily awaken in me.
The words were beautiful. There was rhythm… cadence. It really was like a song.
