Quintessence of Dust

Please allow me to begin by saying that I am more Blessed than I can ever say. Having said as much, please also permit me the honour, and indeed the true privilege that it is, to bend your ear and perhaps your patience, to express how Happy I am to be a part of this WordPress Family; to have my very own blog, which may seem a casual feat to some; to have come so very far so fast, and to have the remarkably uplifting and inspiring support of so many skilled, talented, beautiful artists. Artists who paint my world with colour, light, shadow, night, sound expressed in word and tone, laughs and tears, yes, sighs and moans. Artists, who, like me, revel in the majestic freedom of the written word.

Yet to me, “what is this quintessence of dust”? It is indeed a marvel that one such as I, should you know me as I do; for one who for so long had not written a single poem and barely scratched the surface of the ocean of words which has poured forth since launching this blog; for one who has ever considered herself to be ordinary, unremarkable, every-day, to be able to sit down, log in, night after truly blessed night, and feel the power of inspiration flowing through me like a mighty, inexorable river; to hear the soft whispers of Love, Hope, Peace and Joy singing from the very depths of my soul; to open document after document, close my eyes, and type until the torrential flow abates and then, to read the magic etched into the page with astonishment and humility, knowing full well the Source from which it sprang and without which I would, as yet, be devoid of lyric and silent. It is far more than even I, with all my words, can relate.

For when I began this blog, a few months ago, not quite half a year, my thoughts were simply to have a place to share a laugh or two, a poem or three, and perchance a story or four; I had hopes that I should acquire a few followers, make a few friends, and, if I was fortunate, perhaps, touch a life or two with something significant known only to them by the use of this gift given so graciously to me. Little did I know. How unimaginative I truly was/am, to think that the Author and Creator of the written word, the Originator of Lyrical Poetry and the Architect of the Masterful Language we so poorly utilize might only do something hum-drum and run of the mill.

Perhaps Booknvolume is hum-drum and run of the mill. Perhaps my efforts speak only to me. Yet even if that is the case, then Blessing is still Blessing. And if, after everything is said and done, after the dust settles and the floor boards begin to creak with age, if everything I’ve ever written fades into twilight save one blessedly inspired piece, that, in all the grace of Heaven, might live on beyond me and touch a single life with Heaven’s Love, Divine Hope, The Father’s Peace and the Spirit’s Joy, then I shall count myself immortal, transcending time and space, through the gift of God Entrusted to me. Blessed to be a Blessing and a Blessing to be so Blessed.

And if I, who am ordinary, un-extraordinary; if I, who am not a rock star or a movie star or even a published author (yet); if I, who wake up each morning, “to grunt and sweat under a weary life” am capable of such a miraculous feat; if I am destined to be Immortal and touch a single life…then perhaps, so too, might you.

And if we all, in the conscientious exploitation of this truly stupendous achievement of language and the utterly perplexing bequest of communication handed down to us from Grace Itself do touch a single life and they in turn touch one, how many shall we reach? How many shall we become? How long will our Gift live? How Shall the World be changed? And How Can it, in any fashion, be Explained, other than to count it Utter, Unparalleled, Unexplainable Blessing?

~Morgan~
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Beautiful Image found at: Skygum.com