Writing Down The Words   Lilia P. Westmore     © Copyright 2004 by Lilia P. Westmore

The world of writing is a haven of light and shade, laughter and tears, joy and sadness. The writer's domain is a wonderful place of
words, both earthly and heavenly, a space where the sun shines and the rains fall, not both at the same time, but still a place of honor
and dignity. The words that spill out of typewriters, word processors, and computers are messages from the heart of the writer.
Happiness or sadness are expressed in words that either bring joy or cut deep into the heart of the reader. Words are woven into
sentences that aptly describe a person's elation or distress, emotions that ring true in the expert use of the writer.

Writing is a precious commodity and a link between peoples of the worlds. Words that communicate the truth become the wisdom of the
ages. Words that dispel gloom arouse a person to action. Words are the solutions to riddles and problems. Words of peace and love
evoke a person's desire to write, to dream, to behold, to act. Where there's happiness or sorrow, there are words. There are words that
heal the sick out of their misery and disgrace and words that encourage the weak to be more strong in mind and in spirit.

There are words to write, to enjoy; words of love, of peace, of happiness. There are precious words that bring warring worlds together;
words of wisdom from the pages of classic works of art; words of freedom out of the lips of people who march and declare their
acceptance and/or rejection of the popularity of rules that govern their every day life, and words of justice that defy bias and immorality.
Words are bandied about to balance the power into the hands of a few and more words to spread the vigor of authority into the bosom
of the liberated populace.

Words that have been passed through generations of literary artists become the media through which people learn the events that impact
the lives of international nations, whether or not the words are worthy and truthful to the history of the ages. Words are translated into
actions by the pure in heart and by the crazed mindlessness of the maddening crowd. At times, words become the symbols of goodness
or evil, the sweet and the bitter, the beautiful and the ugly. Words that are used ethically and with respect become the lore of the future,
the treasure of the past, and the wonder of the present. With words, a memory is rekindled, an action is inspired, a lonesome heart is
filled with joy, a life is saved.

I love words and so I write:

I sat at the river's edge, faced west toward the horizon. The day was clear, hardly a cloud in the sky. The red ball of fire that was the
sun that burned the fields dry earlier in the midday sailed behind the mountain range. The dying sunlight reflected a reddish glow against
the pale sky. What remained of the day's brightness became shades of peaches and pinks. I wanted to paint the fading light but my
hands were not those of a painter's. I wanted to capture, on canvas, the wings of the sun's rays that stretched up to the heavens. Instead
I wrote about it.

Her face was contorted in lines of rage, her eyes were wildly fierce and staring, slightly red in the morning light. Her mouth spattered
saliva with words that stung and hurt. Her screams were shrill as tears of ire flowed from her eyes. Her sagging cheeks trembled as she
shook her finger to the sky. She paced the floor as the anger spread to her face and her neck pulsated with lines of veins that spilled out
of her mouth. This was a scene that deserved to be painted; I wrote about it instead.

Scene upon scene became images that I pictured in my mind. Every single one was worthy of a painting that an experienced artist would
have resolved to do. There was the face of forgiveness that became a personality in the form of a church minister. There were children
of different ethnic backgrounds, touching each other and sharing in the joys of games in the playground. A mental visualization of skillful
toes doing elegant pirouettes and swaying with expertise to an orchestra of instruments earned a place in the gallery of arts. All these
mirrored images were worthy of a place in the world of painters and artists. I chose to write about them, however.

Words bring gladness to a sorrowing heart in an ever-contrasting mood depicted in poetry. Words are pictures of hope and inspiration in
tales of the world. Writers, as they expend the changing colors of beauty and horror, are prisoners of words. In their desire to release the
emotions that are created through their artistry, writers remain true to their calling by painting down words that represent the beauty of a
sunset, the horror of a crime, the misgivings of a contrite heart, the happiness of a marriage, the miracle of a new birth.

Words are an ever-present, mind-boggling riddle and mysterious epithet of yesterday,  today, and tomorrow.

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