Odd Walking Thoughts

I know how I am, said the rock, as it listened to the sun every day. The moon too had words. The rain, the wind, the time. I know who I am. Said the rock. As it slowly slid toward the stream. The water waiting to engulf and drown the visions of tomorrow from a wayward version of today. I know who I am, said the rock as it was picked up by a young boy during the middle of the day. It was cloudy, with little much of anything to see in the way of rays, and the boy took the rock inside his home and inside his bedroom and inside his heart and mind. The rock was placed just above the boy’s head. A nook. Of mind and soul. And the rock found the he hadn’t known himself well at all, really. Not at all.

-M. Taggart

7 Reasons to Write

Because we’re not perfect and we should see what that looks like in written form-

We all have the same words at our disposal and it’s intriguing to see how we use them so differently-

You may find hidden attributes within your personality-

Creation of words written into phrases or stories may put into motion action for yourself and possibly others-

It’s good for the heart, mind and soul-

If you don’t, these words will chase you-

As Emily Dickinson once wrote, ‘Your thoughts don’t have words every day’ and when they do, I think we ought to write them down-

-M. Taggart

(OWO 3/10/15)

Odd Walking Thoughts

Wasted space happened in our thought. I filed it away. Listening to no music while thinking of it. Want to keep your self. self. It’s the strangest thing when you leave. We walk in the smell. The leaves this time of year are rotting on the soles of our boots. We carve your remanence with a knife.

-M. Taggart
copyright 2017