I am troubled by conversations.
Words never quite represent the fulness of one's thoughts. Not unless, the one speaking clearly grasps what is being conveyed.
More often than not, I mumble for jargon not because I lack word-power but I leak in terms of substance. I have nothing good to say.
If it were not for the WORD who transpierced my world, I would have remained a monotonous clanging cymbal.
Late last night, I had one of those moments where my heart was registering a truth so opaque, my tongue simply proved inept. And so again, I caused unnecessary hurt.
Words are different when they are spoken without anchor. They are detonated with a thousand and one meanings. The recipient is either built or shattered in a million pieces.
I turn to the ONE who purifies His converse with blue flame. Every syllable given induces life.
I rise today surrendering my talk to a walk that leads to a holy bridle. I just hope my daughter forgives me for slicing her soul.
Photography: Renchi Arce