Image: Donald Ian McCaw

Words. What are words?
Left alone they are leaves upon the waves,
drifting with no purpose, no course;
random scars on an unmarked grave,
showing no mourning, no remorse.

Words. What are words?
Recited, repeated, quoted from another,
they are runes of an alien tongue,
far from thoughts born of pain and wonder.

Words. What are words?
Spilled without thought, or
flung for power or pleasure,
words are weapons to lay foes asunder.

Words. What are words?
Inscribed on sheets of paper
or liquid crystal display,
their printed form claims power
only the erudite dare gainsay.

Words. What are words?
Without malice, artifice; but pure and pristine,
words are the elixir, the verbal grist,
the savior that can with one’s own breath
the most reticent soul redeem.

THESE ARE MY WORDS INSPIRED BY TOM FOOLERY’S “THE WORDS”.