Alphabet Soup

I enjoy words. I delight in them actually. Every word is an entire little colony of letters, strung together to make a collective sound with a precise meaning. Each letter has a particular shape that dictates its pronunciation, directing our mouths into an exact configuration which makes a consequent noise. Put next to one another, letters miraculously form units of language – vowels and consonants dancing together harmoniously. Each letter has a place and a purpose, and in synthesis a word is born.

A word - a string of symbols that communicates a thought, an emotion, an object, anything – is a marvel. Every word is a tiny multidimensional universe of expression. A “pot” isn’t just a physical object in the material realm. It’s alive. It lives in sight, touch, sound, smell. I take it and give it a taste, swirl it around in my mind like a sip of wine lingering on my tongue. In a moment, it is smooth and glossy and cold, collecting snow outside in the grass, a pool of frozen soup collecting in its basin. In another it sits inside a window sill atop a book, dry and cracked, teetering sidewise, spilling soil onto the floor.

Words are so powerful. And they are instruments of our creation. They are channels to communicate what is inside out, manifestations of our inner worlds. They are what we have to bridge the enormous gap that separates us as individuals, and they unearth the intimacy that binds us all as kin. Words are magical really. And they’re ours for the taking. In bounty. For free! So roll up your sleeves and start your creating. Spill them out, whip them up, stir them around. Take a taste. In fact, take two. No matter how you slice it, they’re delicious!