By Masimba Biriwasha | On Point | @ChiefKMasimba | January 20, 2014
Perhaps one of the greatest battles I’ve fought in my life has been to find my writer’s voice.
Because it’s a highly internal affair, there are no witnesses to the bloody spectacle except, maybe, for a disfigured piece of writing. Every time I try to awaken my writer’s voice I feel wrecked. It’s a real pain to say the least: mind-numbing. Continue reading
upon this path, angels appear dressed in rags that sag and stink like rotten shoes. we cringe when we meet them, and count their words for nothing. yet gently the angels whisper as they limp by our side, and complain of a backache born of past regret. slowly they seek to build within our bones a new faith to heal the wounded words that spill out of hearts like an old habit. so, though, to the heavens we look for miracles, right by our side, the angels whisper sweet words that can makes rise again. if only we could listen, we would hear what they have to say.
“Watch your thoughts; they become words.
Watch your words; they become actions.
Watch your actions; they become habits.
Watch your habits; they become character.
Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.
When we walk to the edge of all the light we have and take the step into the darkness of the unknown, we must believe that one of two things will happen.
There will be something solid for us to stand on or we will be taught to fly.”
~ Frank Outlaw