“Create,” she said.

Crouching down, I touched her.

My skin against her damp earth.

I whispered, “I don’t know what to do?”

I whispered, “I don’t know who I am?”

“Create,” she said.

I whispered, “What?”

“Create,” she said.

I whispered, “Why?”

“Create,” she said.

I whispered, “I am too tired.”

“Create,” she said.

I whispered, “You don’t understand.”

“Create,” she said.

I began to cry.

“Create,” she said.

I whispered, “I don’t know how.”

“Create,” she said.

I fell silent.

“Create,” she said.

I closed my eyes.

“Create,” she said.

I whispered, “Will you help me?”

“Create,” she said.

I picked up a pen and with a shaky hand I started to write the story of my life.

“Create,” she said.

And I realized, creation was what I had been doing all along.

“Create,” she said and I replied:

“I am. I am. I am.”

~

Relephant Read:

For the Creative Souls who Hide Themselves.

~

Author: Sarah Norrad

Editor: Toby Israel

Photo: Mark Rain/Flickr (more from Mark here) // ™ Pacheco/Flickr

~