Mediums have a voice, not words

Dawn is the most peaceful part of the day, and I choose to be out – walking on a path strewn with autumn leaves or snow or spring flowers. All carry different messages for my day ahead.

Crazy me – I pick up a leaf and write a poem on it with the permanent marker in my pocket. The detached leaf is forlorn, and bears the pain and stains with grace. It will adorn my writing table in the study, which sees an occasional visitor….…. when far away an interrupted cry distracts me.

Who muffled the voice? Maybe it carries a message for me. I start walking in the direction of the sound – inscribed leaf safely ensconced in my pocket.

I see a vision with an outstretched hand.

“Please return the leaf. Those lines are mine. You are just a chosen medium.”

Another story awaits me….

(144 words)

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8 thoughts on “Mediums have a voice, not words

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