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I love words. Written words. Not everyone has this kind of voracious appetite for words, and I understand that a lot of people would rather talk, or hear words, than read or write them. Maybe it comes with breeding, or DNA. But for those of us who love writing, it’s like breathing; you feel compelled to do it.

As a child, if I wasn’t drawing, I was writing. That pretty much still holds true. I love to write … letters, stories, poems, thoughts – all of it. I love the possibilities offered up with each new ripple of intermingling letters. I like the rhythm and the play of sounds that create a sentence. I love how words flow on a page, how they fall or jump, dance or hum, whisper or smack. I like how they all come together to make sense of something.

I also like that there are thousands of words available to pick from. And I like games where you find as many words as you can from one larger word. I like making words in scrabble. Words are fun.

But I also have a deep respect for words. Spoken or written, they are reflections of thought capable of moving people to personal greatness or ruin, to love, or even war. They can calm, or outright bore. They can repulse or inspire. In a split second, the words we choose to use can hurt just as easily as heal.

Some may argue that words are just talk; words are insignificant. That actions speak louder, I do agree. And true enough, not every word uttered will have the impact to captivate, bring laughter round the world or poison a soul. But I believe that even our everyday language carries far more weight and influence than we realize.

It’s important to be careful with our words; to be mindful of what we say. Maybe to “watch your mouth” as your mother might have said. To take even just a moment before speaking to check the thought.

Whether you love words or not, the world would do well with more respect for the power words can hold.

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