My mind flows with words;
it lives and breaths their sounds.
It wonders at their power to create
smiles and coax out frowns,
it marvels at their ability
to make us feel and taste and touch
and yet all of this while never
leaving our bedsheets' gentle clutch.
These words can take you by the hand
and steal you down streets and roads and paths.
They can tumble you through doorways and
into another family's hearth,
you can trust these marking on skeletal wood
to expire and inspire your mind.
They give us the rare opportunity to leave
our mundane world behind.
So yes, my mind flows with words;
that of others and many and my own,
because through an art that breaches language and speech
I have found my very own home.