Once written, the words on the page lead the author down a new road. The path that led to the writing is not reflected in the reading. Thoughts of never ending love, a world in peace, worlds won, worlds lost, friendship, hardship, dreams completed, dreams lost, and perfect words on a page led to an idea. The idea grows to the point of being worth the writing. The writing stumbles down the road. The author retraces the steps over and over restarting the trip many times. Now the printed words are waiting.

Once read, the words on the page are transformed into a map. The words now lead down a new path. Once read, the author is now led to a new city in the land of thought. The words have lost their intended meaning. Has the author failed? NO! But the written work is not the road that thought had designed. The reading does not bring the author back to the place where the writing started. Has the author failed? NO. The author has grown.

Once written, the author will never return to the place where the writing started. Thoughts that led to the idea were once fresh. The idea was once new. The written word was once a stranger. The experience of thought has been a teacher. The experiencing of the idea has taught. The act of writing has turned the author from student to teacher. The reading of the work has returned him once more to the role of student.

The thought of sharing the work with another is both terrifying and stimulating. Will anyone else be able to see the meaning behind the words? Will a past different from the creators appreciate or even understand what may materialize as childish, if they bother to read it at all? Yes, someone else must know. It must be shared in hopes of finding just one.