Words

Sometimes we can say too much, and sometimes not enough. I can speak loosely, unintentionally hurting someone I care about. And then a voice inside says never end a sentence with a preposition, and don't place a comma before an and. Or start a sentence with or, or because. But it is good to remember that words are not the end in view, only the vehicle between individuals, avenues to communion. Because, and in response to those I hurt with words, here's a poem I hope we can use to transcend words with.


Words

little and light
loving and lovely
come these words
not as the forceful monologue of a prophet
nor as the impassioned plea of a lover
with nothing of release
but little and light and lovely
like the breath on a clear morning
just happy to be

it touches me to know
that in all of my corruption
all of my battles with myself
that these words can come in to and out
of me

they purify, being pure
and lighten my life and its load
they remind of the self that is not really connected to me here
but can soar with these words whence and hence
really no where

but in our beautiful minds
dear minds, heavy minds, worried minds
they come as a welcome guest and give good cheer
like a Dicken’s character, unusually bright

they will not win any wars
nor stop any clocks
they will not right the wrongs
nor heal the wounds
they are just words
they can not smile
the most they can do is be smiled at
but that is enough
that perhaps is what they are for
but they can help with anything
and make poets out of kings

love the guest
love the rest
it is not an intelligence test

for love is not content with silence
is not fulfilled with restraint
the word that cannot be spoken
becomes a bitter complaint
but words that are spoken
are given back to the air
they are felt to go
but remain
to and fro
they breathe again

precious words come lightly
with generosity be told
be said and shed and something else that rhymes with said
be little – you know who your master is
No, not I; your words are spoken lamely
if they are not a twinkle in His eye.