The Most Important Thing I've Ever Had to Write

What an honor!

This weekend I will be “unofficially” officiating my first born son’s wedding. Thus, I’ve written a wedding ceremony for him and his lovely bride-to-be. What an honor, not only to write the ceremony, but to also deliver it before our friends and family.

Sometimes, as writers, we are called to do important things with our words. I was once commissioned to write a bereavement memoir for a gireving family. I once wrote a poem to be read by my son at his own step-mother’s funeral. I have been asked to write personal letters to help people with their own healing of traumas that were decades-old. I’ve been asked to write words for people in their most vulnerable and emotional moments. This is an honor that I hold dearly.

For all of the professional writing I have done in my career, it’s these moments, the personal ones, often done for no pay at all or as a gift to the family, that truly resonate in my heart as I look back over my writing career. These are the moments that have sealed my life’s path as a writer, a learner, an expresser of ideas via the written word. That, and the poetry that I live and breathe and write.

I was revisiting some of my poems this week as I gather some of them to be featured in my next poetry collection called Seascapes. Here’s a preview of the working cover:

I thought I’d share a few snippets of those writings today as I am feeling a bit nostalgic.

We eye the same sky,
aghast at the sameness,
the stillness of stars
the unfathomable age of it all.
We cling to the wildness
in each other’s eyes.
This is the way
— of us.

—The Ways of Water

The hollow ocean moan of
tales of bending onward home
are naught but sand and stench,
sunburnt dry and calcified.
A grave shed and salt-scoured clean.

How much of that endless sea
belongs to you? Belongs to me?

—The Seashell

I am white with rage, yet she, alone,
Comforts me, calms me, calcifies me whole.
I am wrapped in thee. I, daughter
Of the endless sea.

—Offering

We eye the same sky,
aghast at the sameness,
the stillness of stars
the unfathomable age of it all.
We cling to the wildness
in each other’s eyes.
This is the way
— of us.

—The Ways of Water

Thanks for taking a dip in the pools of nostalgic and honorable writing today. And, as always, thanks for following my work. While I may go on and on sometimes about how this or that or the other are important—so I can earn a living with my work—it is really the soft, quiet words I must write for the hearts of others that make me a writer. It is my honor, always, sharing that with you.

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Christina M Ward is a writer and poet from North Carolina. She works as a freelance writer in the health, wellness, and cannabis space. If you are a fan of her work or would like to show your support, please consider a small token of appreciation. (Plus, it’s a long drive to the wedding and she clould use a few coffees along the way.)