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How does it happen?

 original painting by Taylor age 7

Why are a poet's meanings never very clear, while their heart is usually hidden
somewhere in the words? What gives life to words? Is it passion? Is it tears?
and what makes their meaning simply flow  so that  hope and despair,
life and death, wonder and disappointment happen? How can the author 
make you feel another 's  pain and joy - and even hear their cries louder
than our very own?

It's strangely fascinating isn't it how mere letters and words can portray a
whole life or a whole entire different world - when here we cannot even begin
to understand our own. What makes this possible?

drawn by myself...

There must be reasons, there must be answers. How? How does the sun stay where it is? 
How does the lover know that he loves? How does the ocean really hold itself together? 
How does a bird decide to swoop down from above? How does a dreamer find her dreams? 
How does the snow stay white while the rainbow bends? How is it that I don't want the answers 
and where is the answer to all these things? How is it that everyone has a different answer 
to all of these questions? Enough.

drawn by myself...

The sun sets so early this time of year, which I suppose is kind of sad, 
but one good thing; not only are the days beginning to get a little bit longer, 
but the sky is always a beautiful color.



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