Thank You for the gift of writing

Thank You for the gift of writing, which is a gift of sharing — the mark of humanity. Thank You for the words that I do not understand, yet find their meaning in another person's soul. My lines are nothing but prayers tossed into the multiverse. They do not desire salvation, but only confess Your name.

May I learn to write with a sword, tears, and laughter, for life is a story written on the wind, waters, fire, and mountains of the Earth. And may I never forget that amidst all chaos and hate, there is a faithless pilgrim in every heart who prays endlessly, relying on love and miracles.

Yet all these are words — meaningless words — starving and homeless until a soul receives them. Not to be understood, but only to be felt. This is how beauty is created, how life is created. It takes a leap of madness, courage, kindness, a bit of magic, and folly. Because words are dreams floundering in the void of Your imagination.

And as words float on the paper and tinker with my mind, a new paradise opens itself. It is on the paper where the realms of heaven and hell are created. It is also the infinite dimension where the visible and invisible worlds meet. And as these words turn into ashes before a reader's eyes, a soul is released, gasping, the freedom of the stars.