Today a friend complimented me about my way with words, how sentences just seem to flow for me. Words usually come easy for me when I can pin them down in writing. When needed in verbal communication, they often hide and leave me fumbling to find them. But I love marveling at the beauty of the English language, like pondering how in the single space between “a way” and “away” the direction completely changes.
“A way” shows a path before you, an opportunity, an opening, space to explore and play in, possibility is abound.
“Away” is quite the opposite, the path is no longer there, the opportunity missed, the space that was there is now gone and gone are the possibilities, they all left together with that single space.
And while I often have a way with words, words are also full of wonder for me, they possess a magic that they themselves can hardly describe. They are just black scribbles on a page, a breath of exhaled air and yet, they paint pictures, make the invisible visible, the dark light, and the cold warm. With a few words clarity is born, and with others confusion is sown. A single word can bring a smile to a face or break a heart. Words have power, words are magic spells, and I feel blessed, that they allow me to flow with them, to wave my magic pen and create with them. I have a way with words, but sometimes… they take my breathe away.