so much is shared through migrations
like birds dropping seeds as they fly
some cultures will grow and flourish,
some seeds will wither and die
looking back on history
and the incessant weave of the world
i see patterns intertwined, growing
interchange of art and design
leaves that bud from one tree
the branching of language and speech
a map of where we’ve all been
it says nothing of where we are going
in this we know less than the birds
‘Sticks and stones may break my bones
but words will never hurt me.’
Ha! who arrived at that
pat down potted wisdom
shrugging off truth
with an easy phrase and a lie
Words are life savers and killers,
blessing givers, tormentors, thieves
they can make you grovel
they can make you free
they can make you feel loved,
wanted and cared for, or
disgraced, misplaced, dispossessed
words are power
words are spells
one misplaced word
side-tracks, sharp edges, confusions
all is lost and undone
don’t ask me to speak with words
let me show you, not tell you
give me the language of eyes and skin
my hand in your hair, the quiet night air,
the bird song, the breeze, the river
my arm under your head,
your breathe in my ear,
tangled limbs,
these are the words of love
The Dreaming Path 