Writing Archives - WordsINVerse

A ROAD ALL TRAVEL

By Kimberly Fray / Oct 21, 2024 Oct 21, 2024

This life has moved swiftly
My hair has greyed
My skin has paled
i’m a little rounder
plumper
Objects may appear closer than what they are
i hardly wear make-up now
i tire easily
and I have aches and pains i picked up

Along the way
A train came and
i travelled the years

My story changed
as i turned the page
and in the middle of the plot
the characters too changed

i found myself in the middle of a poem

and then i stopped reading
not wanting to know how the story unfolded
Now i am here
Hardly recognising the person
i see reflected in the window
the strangeness of a dream lingers
familiar yet
unknown

                      A few cracks and bruises
                      no one could have seen it coming
                      Watching the world go by in a 
                      darkened tunnel

But there is light,
there is always light
as long as you’re willing to dig
through the rubble
i see it now
as this joyride slows
everything comes back into perspective

i am not yet done.

THE BUS STOP

By Kimberly Fray / Aug 28, 2024 Aug 28, 2024

I used to be embarrassed and annoyed to stand by the bus stop and wait for the bus to arrive.
But now I realize what a gift it is,
I am closer to the earth, closer to people.

I can smell the putrid smell of urine and smoke.
I can feel the thunder of the vehicles as they speed by.
I can look people in their eyes as I make way for them to pass around me.
I can see the doves pecking at some invisible piece of food left, probably by the vendor that sits at the same place every day, selling the same stale snacks and single cigarettes.
I can feel the wind in my eyes and the small leaves from the tree above me, fall onto my head, like rain.

My senses are awake and I too am aware.

I see the sweet elderly couple marching past me, dressed in their Sunday best,

even though it’s a Wednesday afternoon.

I hear the non-stop blaring of the taxis as they race past me, trying to fill up their seats so they can fill up their bellies.

There’s a homeless man on a bicycle, risking traffic to cross the street, not at all confident in the two wheel transportation, which is probably the only thing he owns.

I see the people by the traffic lights, handing out pamphlets for a car wash or your next real estate that you simply must have. Their bucket hats drawn down low as the sun hits down on their backs.

The half torn pamphlets on the street poles tell a different story, messages of finding a lost lover and maybe possibly becoming a better lover yourself.

It makes me wonder how many people have dialed that number.

I see them, the people in their cars, sitting with their thoughts,
probably daydreaming of a different place and time
and it is here where they allow me to bring their stories to life.

Colourful, interesting, sometimes happy and sometimes sad. Neither here nor there.

What a privilege it is to see people as they are from where I stand.

I see my bus finally arrive, a little relieved and a little sad because now I have to stop telling their stories and go make my own.

I used to be embarrassed to wait for the bus stop but now I realize, sometimes, that’s exactly where I am supposed to be.

A TRANSPARENT TESTIMONY

By Kimberly Fray / Apr 7, 2024 Apr 7, 2024

God works in mysterious ways.
I have been going through a season where I’ve been experiencing a spiritual drought; I’ve been struggling to pray. I haven’t read my Bible, I haven’t been speaking to God, and I haven’t been able to listen to worship music – I’ve been struggling and feeling so guilty. It’s been going on for weeks, but some light came through the darkness today.
I went to church this morning, even though, at some point, I told myself I didn’t want to go.
Remember how I said I haven’t been able to pray? Well, today, I prayed, and I cried.
But let me start at our praise and worship rehearsal earlier in the week, on Thursday. I wasn’t myself; I couldn’t worship sincerely, and my heart, soul, and spirit weren’t there. Then, my husband asked me to pray at the rehearsal, which I did, but I wasn’t entirely in it. Now to Sunday, today—I was asked to pray at our pre-service prayer, and then I was asked to pray again when the actual service started to open.
I almost found it comical, but I knew God was working. He put me in a public place where I had to pray for others and made me realize it wasn’t about me. The people who came to the service this morning needed a touch from Jesus, myself included, and the Lord gave me that by putting me in a position where I had to pray for others.
It all brought me to tears throughout the entire Sunday service. At some point, I was on my knees, simply giving thanks to God for working in my life, bringing me back to His throne, and helping me find my way back to Him.
I am not 100% okay yet, but the walls are definitely coming down. For now, for today, this is my testimony about what God did in my life today, and I am truly grateful.

PS: I have also been battling with my writing and my creativity. This is the first blog post I’ve shared in weeks, and I credit it all to Jesus. Another thing I am grateful for.

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I STILL LOVE SAD POEMS

By Kimberly Fray / Sep 10, 2023 Sep 10, 2023

I still love sad poetry.
I love to know that hearts are still able to heal after suffering.
It brings me comfort to know that loneliness doesn’t last.
I smile when I think Spring comes after Winter,
and the sun still rises in the morning.
I still love sad poetry.
It brings me hope when days are long and nights are cold.
I still believe in new beginnings when I read stanzas of tears on a page, and I see broken hearts in the smiles of strangers.
I still love sad poetry.
I still write sad poetry.
It makes me feel, and it makes me think,
and it helps me remember the days when I wasn’t sad.

BEING INTENTIONAL

By Kimberly Fray / Sep 7, 2023 Sep 7, 2023

WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE INTENTIONAL?

When I searched the meaning of the word ‘intentional,’ I found the following definition;
‘done on purpose’ or ‘deliberate.’
The word ‘purpose’ means ‘the reason for doing something.’
So overall, the word intentional means there is a specific reason you do what you do. There is a particular outcome you desire, something you want to see or achieve through your actions, thoughts, and words daily.
I’ve been thinking of my intentions lately, why I do what I do every day, even the simple or mundane things. Why do I clean our home, do laundry, binge-watch series, or eat certain things? Then I realised that some of the everyday things I do sometimes don’t have any purpose. Sometimes, I do it because it’s my excuse not to do what I’m supposed to be doing, for example, watching a series when I should be working on my novel. Those things are not intentional; they are easy. I do it because I am programmed to do it through years of doing the same thing every day.
When I write or share something on my blog or podcast, I don’t just do it because I am programmed to do it. I do it to inspire and motivate others or to share a relatable part of my life so that others might feel seen or heard and less alone. That is the purpose, the intention of my writing.

QUESTIONS ABOUT MY INTENTIONS

Then I asked myself how many things I do that are intentional or have a purpose. The answer was few, which made me sad and a little bit angry at myself.
I want to go through life with a purpose and a clear direction for my life. I want my life to mean something. I want my work to mean something. At the end of my life, I want to know that I have fulfilled what God put me here to do. I want to be more intentional about my thoughts, actions, and words, whether written or spoken. I want it to bring life to others.

HOW TO BE MORE INTENTIONAL

The question then came to me: What can I do or what should I do if I want to be more intentional? It’s certainly not easy because being intentional requires doing the work. It takes renewing your mind and changing old habits into new habits. However, it is not impossible.
For one, whenever you experience a negative thought creeping into your mind, you stop before it overtakes you and switch to the more upbeat, life-giving alternative. Give your thoughts purpose. When you want to watch a third consecutive episode of the current series you’re watching, stop and ask yourself, is there a reason for this? Will this help me fulfill my purpose? What can I do instead?
Write, create art, call a friend or family member and check in, go for a walk and clear your mind, pray, or read. Simple things like that can awaken a part of you that you thought had died long ago.
I think of the story of Ruth and Naomi in the Bible. When Ruth went out to work in the fields, Naomi realised that the land belonged to Boaz. Later in the story, Naomi instructs Ruth to go to the threshing floor so that she may find a husband and a new home. There was purpose in Naomi’s actions, and there was intention. Eventually, that filtered down through the rest of history.

YOU STILL HAVE A PURPOSE

I’d like to believe that when we wake in the morning, God still has a purpose for our lives, which means we have no choice but to be intentional about who we are and what we do. God himself was intentional when He created us. Knowing that should give us enthusiasm for the day ahead and excitement to fulfill that purpose. It should make us curious about what life offers so that when we lay our heads down at night, exhausted but fulfilled, we know we have completed what God has called us to do.
Every single day we have on this earth is a gift. We don’t get the same day twice, and time moves swiftly.
Let’s be intentional about how we use the time we have.

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DON’T LEAVE THIS WORLD UNTOUCHED

By Kimberly Fray / May 5, 2023 May 5, 2023

I don’t want to lie on my deathbed someday; whether that eventually is thirty or forty years or three weeks from now; and be buried underneath all my regrets.

I need to create.

I need to leave something that will live long after I’ve left this earth.

I question whether anyone will remember me for what I’ve left behind and if it is even important.

I want to spend every day of my life creating and as I sit here writing this, I feel myself becoming emotional; tears run down my cheeks and I know, without a shadow of a doubt that this is truly my calling.

I need to create.

In the same way I need to breath.

I need to create something out of nothing.

I need to fill blank pages with my sorrows, worries, and fears and turn it into something beautiful to share with others.

I need to express my thoughts and dreams and connect with others.

And that is ultimately why I need to create, why I need to write. Why my life needs to be an open book.

I need to build a bridge between my fears and another’s loneliness.

I want to leave breadcrumbs in the form of poetry and stories so that someone else can find their way and their voice.

I need to share my life so that another person can be brave enough to share their story.

It is my calling.

My purpose.

Every day that passes that I do not write, express or create, feels truly wasted. On those days I feel as if I’ve betrayed my calling. I have wasted an entire day not living as I should.

I feel as if I did not live at all.

Even when I’ve tried to avoid it, when I’ve tried to ignore it. When I told myself it wasn’t important, there was always this nagging feeling inside me, tugging at me, pushing me in a certain direction.

And I knew, it was futile trying to turn my back on it; I am an artist. I am a creative.

You may not always understand what I create, you may not always enjoy what I share and you may even mock and laugh at me but that will only encourage me more.

Knowing that I am an artist, reminds me that I must create every day. It is not just a calling but it is also a responsibility.

Writing is an art; the blank page is my canvas, words are my paint and the world and this life is my muse.

What you finally see before you; is my work of art.

My gift to you.

ON WRITING

By Kimberly Fray / Jan 28, 2023 Jan 28, 2023

Writing is a release for me. Almost like therapy but without the talking.

When I write down my feelings and thoughts that have kept me hostage or that have made me feel sad or heartbroken or angry and I stare at it on the page before me, I feel a sense of freedom. Almost as if I let go of something. I feel as if I can breath easier, as if I’ve made space in my heart and my spirit for better and more beautiful things.

It’s a healing process. I never want to stop experiencing this when I write. I never want to stop writing.

Even if I never become a best-selling author and no one ever reads anything I write, I’d like to know I’ve left a trail of breadcrumbs to feed someone’s soul.

PIECES OF ME

By Kimberly Fray / Dec 31, 2022 Dec 31, 2022

we are shaped by our experiences but we can choose how to live out those experiences. We choose how to live, we choose whether we give up or go on. We choose to forgive.

life demands of you to be intentional; intentional about your actions, your energy, your focus, your thoughts and emotions.

It hasn’t been easy but it has been fulfilling

love is one of the most if not the most powerful source of hope we have on this earth

Its not just okay to live as your authentic self, its absolutely necessary.

do not fear.
do not tremble.
do not question or second guess

These hard, tiring and busy days won’t last.

Your ability to nurture, love, care and encourage is God-given.

break out of the mould you created for yourself with all the things you thought you knew

I hope you relinquish all expectations
you had of yourself for this next season and simply enjoy being alive.

Even if it fails, at least you know that you tried.

We all have a place in our minds where we wish to go, things we want to do and places we want to see but if I’ve learned anything, these last few years, is that you won’t get there if you don’t get moving.

It’s a beautiful day. The dog dreams. I breathe

Better to have a moment of awkwardness than to have a lifetime of regret.

But I see how you carry on.

I see how you carry others.

I see how you love,

I see how you pray.

I see you and I love what I see.

It’s a road not travelled at all.
A sad and painful place where the rivers
are made out of tears.
Very lonely. Very heartbreaking.

Very beautiful indeed.

My faith saved me.
It saves me still.

regret always comes too late.

You are more valuable than you know and you have so much more power than you realise

One hurt does not fix another

I want to be that brave person again

I’m a weary wife.

WRITING ABOUT NOT WRITING

By Kimberly Fray / Dec 6, 2022 Dec 6, 2022

The 11th of October. That’s the last time I wrote a blog post and in all honesty, I didn’t write it from scratch, it was a recycled post from years ago but still, that was the last time you saw anything from Words In Verse. I’ve been battling to write; I’m not sure if the battle stems from laziness, tiredness, busyness or a lack of creativity and ideas but I haven’t written in a long time. The problem is I want to write. I need to write. There are many times I find myself seeing something or hearing something and I want to turn it into a story or I want to write about it and explore it from my own perspective but I don’t. I let it slip away from me and disappear. And if you’re a writer, you know that once you have an idea, you better write it down because once it disappears, you won’t get it back.

So here I am, writing about not being able to write. Funny thing is, I love writing. I love reading as well but I haven’t done much of that either lately. Writing and reading go hand in hand; if you’re not reading, its almost impossible to write. I’m hoping to get back into the swing of things. I also want to reevaluate what I write about. I remember about two years ago when I had my very first WIV blog (which is now gone) the blog posts I wrote were raw and honest and relatable to many people. I felt fearless when I wrote and published my posts and I felt fulfilled when someone would tell me how they felt reading what I wrote. I knew I was fulfilling my purpose, my calling and my ministry.

My husband will tell you I have a ton of unfinished stories that I started writing (one or two are done) but which I either stopped working on and refuse to touch again. He has been my biggest supporter; always telling me to finish my books and get it published and telling me what a great writer I am and there are moments when I believe him; when I read some of the stuff I’ve written and I think ‘Woah, okay, I’m pretty good at this’ in a non- arrogant way of course, but then there are those moments, which come more often than the former, where imposter syndrome creeps in and destroys all the confidence and belief I had in myself. Once that is destroyed, it’s really difficult to get it back.

Another reason I think I’ve been afraid to write is because of the content I want to publish. I want to be that brave person again that tells honest stories; I write from experience and we all know experiences are not always comfortable; for yourself or for others to share in or experience and I know when I write certain things, a lot of people might frown upon it and I think that has also been a huge block for me.

But I don’t want it to be anymore. I want to write. I need to write and I need to share. I always say to my husband or to people I interact with, you never know who needs hear your story and who will be inspired, encouraged or motivated by it. We all go through difficult experiences and I believe that if we choose to share our experiences, in whichever way we choose to do so, it will help someone else. I’m not suggesting we save the whole world but touching one person, might save another.

So here I am, putting my struggles out there ; of being a writer who has been unable to write and I’m hoping that by doing this and by sharing this, that it will help me be brave enough to start writing again and to start sharing again; despite the fear of being judged or criticized or not believing in myself.

The truth is, I need to see for myself where this journey will take me; this journey of writing and sharing and exposing myself to a world I have yet to discover. In the end, we will never know we are good at something and we will never know the impact we have, if we don’t at least give it our best shot.

THE LONELY WRITER

By Kimberly Fray / Sep 6, 2022 Sep 6, 2022

Being a writer is a very lonely thing to be.
Unlike a band of musicians working together to create a symphony;
a writer is but one person.

You are all alone with just your thoughts. A pen, and a paper, trying to make sense of the loneliness. You hope someone will understand but knowing no one ever will.

It’s a very lonely place to be.
In a room by yourself, writing about loneliness.
The words on a page holding you together granted you should
crumble if you don’t let it flow from the ink.

Yes, it’s very lonely. Very quiet indeed.

Words not like music are silent, unassuming, and not demanding. Gentle almost. The silence is deafening.
If not for the sound of your breathing and the slide of the pen, you would almost think you were dead.

Alone and dead with only a pen and page as your companion.

Only the brave ones know where writing truly stems from
and where it takes you
The places in your mind and imagination that you thought you had forgotten. The memories you never knew you had. The dreams you never dared speak of.

It’s a road not travelled at all.
A sad and painful place where the rivers
are made out of tears.
Very lonely. Very heartbreaking.

Very beautiful indeed.