The art of writing letters is dead. No one can write about their day with the zeal of complete abandonment to the pure artistic form of words. To write words to someone that bump along with rhythm and although prose, could perhaps be mistaken for poetry, a picture painted with words. A well written letter is treasured and pulled out repeatedly to be read, mulled over, laughed over, sorrowed over - its words resonating to the core of the reader. I miss well written letters...

The art of writing letters is dead, or so I thought. The other day I received an email that I gobbled up immediately, because, well, it's from a highly favoured individual. However, as I reread the email to eventually compose a response, I paused. I was struck by the greeting, and I mulled on that for a few hours. I returned to reread and put down my response, and my attention was arrested by the clever wording and poetic rhythm of those words - and than a greater revelation struck me - this was a well written letter!

I scanned through the words, finding a beautiful rhythm of prose that felt to me as poetry, and I fell in love. What beauty! What magnificent composition! Long has it been since my eyes have rested upon words that entrapped my imagination! And truly, what a blessing! So I pause, and pray that I can pen a worthy response. Amen!