There’s the unknown road, the unknown composer, and most famously, the unknown soldier. We humans seem to like our mysteries. Alfred Hitchcock proved that.

There have been times in my writing life where I assumed the role of a character in something I read…or I decided to speak for a particular voiceless character in a painting…or I mixed some different media together and created a morphed mish-mash just for the fun of it.

Oftentimes this would give the appearance I was writing my own thoughts down…telling my own story. But it just wasn’t the case.

An unknown reason until now.

For me, writing has always been an adventure in the world of words. Nonsensical nouns. Vibrating verbs. And alluring adjectives. And as you can tell by now, I adore alliteration.

So, I sometimes find it’s more interesting to sing a new song or perambulate through a poem or stroll through a story or languish in a lyric as someone else. That way I can hear the notes or feel the steps or dwell on the details without getting involved. Does that make sense at all?

The past few days I’ve been going over some old poems and lyrics and sharing some of their story here on my website. Yesterday I wrote about summer never being the same for me as for others. Today, I saw the very next words in the same writing pad, and they were lyrics to a song called “Unknown”. Now, I’ve gone a very long way around to explaining how they even came to be, and I’ll bet it’s all clear as mud. So, I’ll just close with…

In Faith, Hope, and Love,