“Language,” a Free Form Poem

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On my old Wix blog, I would post poems I had written every once in a while. Well, my journal has seen an uptick in the amount of poems written in it for the last few weeks so I felt I would share one here.

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Language, words, are a railroaded track of
love, comfort, or terror,
Harboring or harvesting the mind’s thick-bodied stores,
Able to glorify, magnify, fright, or infiltrate,
and balm, bleed, bore, or blaze
our beings-in-the-world.
I give myself wholeheartedly to the
Word in the beginning.
To lay down those tracks make you a skilled or lazy wizard,
a spinner of speaking whose products can be handed out to heal
the rough and tumble of a life spent sorrowing.
But to be a skilled forger of phrases can paint the pretty leaves purple again;
as in, reimbue life with a radiant raising of religious roofing.

Soli Deo Gloria