Words

They are my art, my inspiration, my weapon, my weakness, my pastime, my passion, my reward, my resilience, my hope, my fear, my consolation.

Listening to poems, for instance by John O’Donohue (here), or reading Seamus Heaney’s and Mahmud Darwish’s writings, I can tap into that well and re-focus myself, fill my batteries, retreat for a moment  from the petty things that make my mind-wheels stumble or even come to a complete hold – screeching and painful.

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