Writer

She withdrew into herself,

First writing just for one,

Then touching thousands.

She incarnated ghosts, hurt, and joy

Into paper-and-ink stories of wonder.

One author said, “I can get rid of anything by writing about it,” meaning that the  process of externalization could liberate him from the pain in his soul. That realization produced a delicious dichotomy: to free himself, or to hold on to both joys  and tortures by remaining silent about them.

Writers write because they must: They need to express something from deep  within themselves. They hear voices that others do not. They listen urgently, and  they must communicate what they hear.

People feel Tao in the same way that writers feel something unique.

In the  process of listening for mysterious voices and expressing the wonder that comes is  a magic akin to the perfection of Tao.