Where in Your Body Do Words Come From?

A question posed, a question asked.

K Zoltan on

In times of trouble and times of joy, the words weep from the soul.

In times of thought and things I know, the words are made freshly baked in my mind.

In times of hurt when hate arrives, the words are summoned from the darkness at my door.

Always are the times, inquest and search I thirst for words of more.

There are times, far and few, words of old, words of new, that sift on through.

The gates of heavens doors.

As if the poets of yesterday must Quill the tell of evermore.

So you see, or maybe not, the source is a tapestry.

The words I am, a makers quilt, threads of mystery.

Gifted from the light within which course the land called me.
Alas, just my from you see, so in challenge and in awe, I ask and call on thee.

Just to mention the fewest of few

In answer to the challenge found here:
Under the watchful eyes of these fine editors;
Ravyne Hawke, Spyder, George Blue Kelly, jules, Diana C.



𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 & 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴.

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Create, Compose traversing subject and medium. To new beginnings, journeys, destinations and the wonderful beings we meet along the way!