I have been engrossed in reading words from a person well
known to me.
She also resides on an Island, but obviously smaller.
The island isn’t cloudy and linguistically diverse like
mine. But it is like a volcano with a burning fire and spurting hot water into
the blue sky.
Through her words I look at her life, on a day to day basis
in the country where she still has to wait till the sun finally comes.
Can I walk into her world by crossing the bridge built from
her words? Surely this is inappropriate! Or maybe I am wrong?
By reading – I imagine.
Imagination builds a new world. A
new world - a new place to live.
Recently like a new star somewhere in our Cosmos I was born
again in a different place.
Merely because of her written sentences.
I’m a traveller – lovely feeling.
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