The buzz of ripening
bits of zeroes
bursting mineral energy
fires the story
to hammer and forge nothing
into sight and sound:
visions, intonations
of the eternal.
Words foraging the world
make a point of view
people the near and far
with thinking, feeling,
imagination:
a kind of enchanted movement
through the landscape revealed
in the bright light of speech.
Learning to Talk
17 Sunday May 2026
Posted in poems
I’ve always been in the camp of our speech, our language, shapes the world for us. Well done.
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Thanks Bob, yep, that’s where I pitch my tent.
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