Why I hesitate… to blog

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Thoughts foam aloft my head. I shoot for the stars but land beneath the clouds. Drop-drip-drop, the shallow, growing pool melts into the sun, dissolving into thin air, dispersed and formless – stillborn. Alas! Now I am thirsty, now I am ready to drink.

I hesitate… because I am new at this gig. I want the sentences to flow effortlessly. I want to be controversial and readable, acceptable and baffling.

I hesitate… because the each of the last four sentences begins with ‘I’. This seems an exercise in ego-buffing and bashless self-indulgence. Yes, I am a grandchild of the modernists – the individual is King. The empowered woman – a goddess, a Queen. The empowered African woman who dare give herself permission to be heard – a wind of change whistling across the Savannah concrete and grass ceilings!

I hesitate… because there is nothing new under the stars.

I hesitate… because I have only two eyes.

I hesitate… because eloquent souls have sailed the waves more gracefully than I.

Why should my voice rise above the murmur of 7.346 (and growing) billion?

And yet I must:

For I am part of a divine chorus,

A wide-eyed witness that must testify to the wild,

And unveil the hidden light.

Yes! There is life under the Sun.


Inspired? Bemused? Confused? Unmoved? Thought-provoked? Still picking your jaw off the floor? Couldn’t care less? Leave a Reply (below). Share your thoughts, experiences, tell your story, your genius idea, rant your guts out, drop a link or video, paint this rooftop red! No, seriously… leave your stamp. Unleash your inner sage! I invite you. 🙂
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