Why Write?

Writing is like walking in a forest.

You marvel, you breathe in the fresh air, of which you could not live without, you put your head back to catch a glimpse of the blue sky, arching at the top of the trees...  You feel the gentle wind on your face and, as you walk on the rich ground, where the trees spread their roots year after year, you touch a branch, and the forest whispers back "you belong here"...

Once in a while, curious and friendly squirrels might stop and stare you in the eyes for a minute or two, sometimes you might see deer, sometimes a bear lazily walking out his den, and you're always on a lookout for mountain lions and other predators.  It could happen... it never hurts to be cautious.

But the forest is glorious in its beauty and mystery.  There are always new paths to discover, and the wind blows through the trees differently each day.  If you happen to be there.

I write because I love being in the forest, mostly alone.  It's where I find God most often, most likely because He had envisioned me there from the beginning.  It's where I call it my home of all homes, and life has spread them everywhere, from one end of the earth to the other.

The forest sits in the middle of an island, more beautiful than the mind could ever imagine.  An island neighboring another island, close to my heart.  It's possible one day the islands might make it on the map, have a proper name and a spot in time.  We are all striving to buy time and become timeless somehow, through something.
It matters little to me, as I know the islands live and are already timeless in the eyes of God.

And three pairs of sweet little eyes, who will one day set foot on the islands and continue the dream.  They are the ones who hold the keys of time, and will follow the dream in the heart of God, as they enter the forest.