I took the picture of these lilies today. They are planted in a row along the side of my house and I think they are beautiful.
They did not really bloom last year because of the drought. Even though they were watered and cared for, the bursts of color just were not there. I am happy that the flowers survived and look nice this year. These flowers know how to persevere!
This train of thought leads me to a conversation I had earlier in the week with a friend. He is older (a grandparent several times over) and was telling me about going to Nashville as a teenage and trying to sell some songs. He spoke to a man at Sun Records who had an interest in his work. My friend was leery, though, of just leaving his music with this man, so he left and the songs were never recorded. Afraid of his words being stolen, he did not take the chance. Instead he went to work for a corporation, raised a family, and now chases after grandchildren.
“It is too late for me now,” he said during our conversation.
“It is never too late to be a writer,” I immediately replied, and I believe this is true. A writer can be any age—what really matters is the imagination and the determination to share your work.
No matter what your chronological age, no matter how long you have kept your talent hidden, your stories, poems, and songs can bloom just like my lilies. You may see a drought of a year, or of a quarter of a century, yet the words can persevere!
Categories: On Writing