Poem: Wordsmith.

We are the untethered ones. 

Fearful liberation, all-consuming wordscape.

Your Identity: human. being?

Individual. 

Worlds upon worlds all at my fingertips. 

Consumed by conflicts, contrasts, comparisons, and characters…..

Cause of death: drowning. 

Friendship found in text, but now a shifting solace.  

Familiar figures–letters and liturgy–grow stagnant, shushed?

Who are these words?

The TRUTH will set you free. 

Words reveal; words refract. 

True way? Saving grace?

Once liberated. Now shackled. 

Childlike memory. Childlike heart. 

Susceptible to the world of words. 

Oh, how wonderful. 

Oh, how worrisome.

I am weary of wonder. 

How long ‘till I see the way?  ‘Till I am safe?

Take me to the sure foundation. 

Lead me to the silent sea: floating. 

A broken vessel longing to be filled. 

Once held an abundance of wine, the goodness of the vine–split. 

Words. Words. Words. Words. Words. 

Warrens of words. 

I have lived thousands of lives, yet forgotten mine.

What is my name? 

Will this desire die?

Wordsmith, do not take your time. 

I do not know how much longer I can survive. 

The weight of words.