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Words
Words are delicate creatures.
In freedom they can soar
to unimaginable heights,
with colors that shine and dance:
erupting into rainbows of mind and soul.
In captivity they are lifeless;
silently they slink away,
only to die, shackled in miry shadows.
In passionate fervor they multiply.
joy to joy, transforming from mere flesh and bone
into glorious prisms of heavenly spun beauty.
In studious dissection they become lost:
the letters are denied their magic,
and the naked syllables lose their pride,
becoming husks ready for the burning.
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