be ever gentle to thy words
treat them, your tools, well,
cleansing and protecting,
wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin
that they may be well conditioned and
pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous,
reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage,
they are well-intentioned to exist far longer
than your meager temporal life,
upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit

give them all respect, their fair due,
they are treasure immeasurable,
for which you have been granted guardianship,
custody received from others to be gifted onwards,
yours, but for the duration

so oft we trifle words,
expel them from the country of our body,
without passport and earnestness,
as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler,
day tourists, to be treated as leavings,
refuse for daily discardation,
barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance,
but leaving not, a mark of distinction

more truffle than trifle,
find them in the dark forest of your life,
use them sparingly, just for soaring,
take them from the roots of your trees,
shave them with a paring knife,
counts them in bites and measure them in grams,
even in grains,
for words are the seasoning of our lives,
agent provacateurs that can modify the moment,
bringing out to the fore
the flavor of the underlying

speak them slow and distinct,
for they arrive slow to you,
a trickling of refugees for your sheltering,
harbor them as full companions,
protected by natural law,
provision them well,
prepared and ever ready for a quick departure,
moor them at the embarcadero,
for the next restless leg of endlessness,
which they themselves will inform you
will last longer than eternity,
long after there are no humans to speak them

You are the sun and the clouds that hide it;
You are the night and the stars that light it;
You are the storm and the calm before it;
You are the ice and the fire that melts it.

You are the sky and the trees below it;
You are the earth and the hills upon it;
You are the sea and the dawn beyond it;
You are the gale and the leaves within it.

But I am a sparrow that seeks for your rays;
Your Polaris guides my solitary ways.
And I am a raindrop that falls to the ground -
Like the frost that fades, with barely a sound.

From the forest floor, I look up at the blue
And walk beneath canopies dripping with dew.
I’m leaving this place and waving goodbye
I’ll never reach you, but at least I can try.