The words are the spark.I hear them running. I hear them jumping, seeking, burrowing. I hear them whisper. They are words and they are mine.The words are the spark.4 years ago in Be a Spark Challenge More Like This
In those moments, they overwhelm me. I think of sparklers during the night. How little children run around with thin sticks spouting fireworks that only last for seconds. Yet, looking back, on the cusp of adulthood, I realise how lucky they were to witness the sparks. To laugh, to delight in fire. It is the same today, except the pen is my sparkler. The paper is the night sky. And with one wave, the words will tumble, heads over heels, towards the ground in sparks.
Countless writers have scratched their pens against the matchbox of Life. They burn out pen after pen trying to find the right spark. Together they form the literary canon, the bestsellers that riddle bookshelves, the scribbles of angsty poetry. We walk past them without realising. We speak of our Eureka moments, our crazy muses, our light bulb inspirations. Eureka moments are few and far between. O