What are words worth?

Another morning, another day...but I am yet to feel comfortable with this new space. Writing into oblivion is a strange feeling. Your words go out there, and someone, somewhere, whose only link to you is a few strokes on a keyboard, reads what you write--maybe--or comes upon it by an accidental detour on the streets of cyberspace. And you create a sense of who you are through your words. So, if you've actually stayed this far on this page, here's something to think about... this is from my own archives, a quarter of a century old (imagine, before this space came into public use!). Maya 30-3-81 My mirror forms an image in my mind I draw myself in colours I want to see. I am a figment of your imagination, as you are too, of mine.

I guess I have arrived...in today's terms. I now have my own few square feet on that strange space called the Web. And what will I say? Will what I say make sense--to myself, to others, both known and unknown? Perhaps a good way to begin is to talk about what's uppermost on my mind. Being a wordsmith who takes on different avatars--biomedical editor, teacher, writer of features and fiction, and of course, that something that is closest to my heart--poetry (I can see some of you cringe--"oh, no, not another of that sort!")--it seems particularly fitting to subject my readers to my most recent exploration of emotion in verse. Caregiving for people of various ages is a challenge, and it's important to remember some basic human truths--which is what this expresses. For my grandmother and yours… In the half-light of The naked light bulb Shaded only by The clouds in your eyes And the tears in mine, We float Through times past and present Wondering where our selves are l