Staying Hidden

Then there are so many times when the words seem reluctant to emerge, as though they are timid creatures, wary of the world. They like to stay hidden under their layers of meaning, not venturing out into the wide-open spaces of the empty page until they are sure no-one will swoop down from out of the empty sky, sweep them up and misinterpret them.

The words only want a quiet life out there on the wide-open plain white page. A place where they can herd together and create meanings of their own, out of their sentences and their paragraphs. A place where the words can feel safe amongst their own kind is all they want or need. They just want a place to graze upon the emptiness of the page, a place where their sentences can grow into paragraphs that are strong and tall and spread out over all the empty pages of this world.

Out there, though, are creatures who will swoop down upon these poor innocent worlds and tear into their sentences and paragraphs with their talons and teeth, Then ripping the meaning and the sense out of the poor bewildered words that flee across the pages in terror. All leaving their meanings torn and bloody upon the once plain white page as the sentences and paragraphs that depended upon them fall and tumble into meaninglessness.