Words Returning

It might be just because we are getting closer to autumn, it might be due to my life gaining some form of direction, but I've been experiencing a return. The return of the words. Not the words for daily communications, no. The words to describe a different form of reality, a reality of the imaginary. Words to be used as tools, as builders.

It had been a long time since I wrote anything of note. I would want to write something, to describe what I feel or see, I would try to. Yet, I'd always end up unable to make it satisfactory. A real, profound lack of inspiration. It's been that way for more than a year. Recently, I would feel that I lost grasp of my language.

Last week, I would get little flashes. Just little words, coming together, little strings, phrases. I found it surprising and didn't really write down those little strings. And just a couple of days ago, while I was in Quebec city, sitting on François' couch, looking out the window, a precise idea took form. An idea for a short poem. It was imperious that I'd write it down. Which I did. Then, through the couple of days there, I wrote a couple more of those little poems. On the bus ride back to Montreal, I felt rather inspired and wrote some more. The words came back. Like they did before.

So I guess my writing teacher was right after all. Words will go and leave for a while, but if they've inhabited you before, they're bound to come back.