Image by My Phuong Nguyen; courtesy of the artist.
I think many of us have something to say to the World, sometimes with passion. We listen to Walt Whitman’s yawp. “I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.” (1) We hear his call.
First we ruminate our thoughts. Having crafted our message, we whisper, then louder; later we shout out a publication and wait for the echo….
No echo. Our “child” hurts more by being ignored than being criticized. Isn’t there always a reaction to each stimulus?
Are we waiting for Godot? (2)
No. When we write, we celebrate literacy, a value less common than we suppose . We review our fund of knowledge. We organize our priorities. Putting messages in bottles is very important. You don’t know when it might be found and understood. Its like telling your children what’s important. I didn’t think they were listening until years later, they volunteer it back to me.
I refer you to a post I wrote on reasons to write, You Should Write” (3)
I followed up with a discussion of the problem of a Twenty-First Century reader pool in “Writing and the Butterfly” August 10, 2015 (4)
I’m reminded: “You gotta have heart, miles and miles of heart…”(5)
The message is no less important without hearing the echo. It is always possible that later, someone will find it , like finding a lost coin in the grass.
1. Whitman, Walt, Song of Myself, Leaves of Grass, 1891
2. Becket, Samuel, Waiting for Godot, 1953
5. Broadway Musical, Damn Yankees, 1955,