As a child, books always felt like doorways
to worlds and to stories that felt like places
that I could travel to and influence with my imagination,
as well as with my memories
of where I had been and who I had met…
as a child, books always felt magical to me –
as if they had this power to them
that could always spellbind me with their words –
and which were always capable of speaking to me
on a level that made me want to continue reading
the tales of the characters within,
and written by some of the most talented
writers and authors on this planet.

Growing up, stories have always been important to me,
and the stories that I have discovered
and read over the course of my life
have only fuelled my love of language,
inspired my imagination,
and empowered my passion
to write stories of my own…
growing up, stories kept me awake at night –
however, when I finally drifted off to sleep,
my dreams were always full of characters,
landscapes, possibilities,
and a new infusion of energy
that had been created within me
that for most of my life has kept
me from ever feeling alone.

When I was first given the opportunity
to author a collection of poetry
that many others could read and enjoy,
it didn’t take me long to jump at the chance
to make a dream of mine come true
and share a love and a passion
that I felt growing within me –
magical words of my own heart and mind
that could give people the ability to read my poetry
and see, hear, taste, and feel
what I saw, what I heard, what I tasted, and what I felt,
as if they had the gift to be able to reach out
and experience something transcendental
and meaningful, beyond that of the sensation of touch…
when it became clear that writing and storytelling
was what defined me and would always define me,
I began to believe that as long as I continued
to do what I loved,
and as long as I continued to live my life
in such a way that welcomed the arrival
of anything, everything, anyone, and everyone
who could continue to keep me
engaged and enlivened by what I saw all around me,
and what I read between the lines
whenever I see the signs of life, nature,
beauty, synchronicity, and the ability
of stories long and short to keep people
believing that they have a purpose
and a reason for doing what they do –
and whenever I write a new story,
and whenever I publish a new book,
I never stop marvelling at how
the muse of the universe continues
to bless me with the words to describe
what sometimes feel as if they were personally intended for me to do with them as I wish,
and as I have lived I have discovered
that sometimes you have to take a leap of faith
and choose not to always do things “by the book”.

Happy World Book Day!