The words. One after another they come. I feel the shiver in my spine and I feel like I’m being baptized again and again. Sometimes too many, other times too little. I have to give them direction. I have to make them work. I have to send them out. There’s so much the giver can give if the empath can submit himself to hear the voice of his soul.

How much of a deep breath is to be taken?, how many indefinite steps are to be walked?. Hours of loneliness are to be endured but deep things do not sprout from shallow grounds. So I tell myself, “Wake up. It is your cross, bear it. You only need a single deep breath and a single definite step. Go on, step on it”.

And just like that nights into day. Elegant green roots sprout from endless fog of imaginations. Green roofs, storey buildings and skyscrapers, where did they all come from? Wait, I used to tell myself that I was the toughest, the toughest girl with the loveliest smile, and a scold that can kill anyone. What now, am I being brain-washed? When he said the words was it possible that I was listening to what I cooked up in my very smart brain?

This man will not let me listen to my head, it seemed like he had a secret bypass or a cheat code or something. Buckets of water, piles of stones, heaps of earth, everything threatening to fall and jumble all around my head scattering my mind into tiny pieces. Yes, I was crazy, but somehow it felt good.

Now, I want to be calm. Now I want to sit and take a cup of coffee. I want to hum and sing softly. I want to nod my head and tap my feet to the sound of the music. I want to swing. I want to see the trees and climb the rocks. I want to take a pet.

Perfect. These words, the lovely combinations of sounds and letters are the very first foundation of life. Especially when it’s what you’ve been longing for. If you can own them, you can own the world. Maybe not the whole world, but your very own world, maybe the best of both worlds and I’m loving them.

Published by Elizabeth Olayide