Words, words everywhere, yet not any sense to comprehend
A word is dead when it is said, some say.
I say it just begins to live that day.
Emily Dickinson
The words I write,
Do they have any meaning?
Or just a meaningless play of words?
Do they come alive when read by the readers?
Do they move the readers, as I wished they would?
Or are they just a few phrases trying to impress,
Like an overdressed courtesan trying to impress her patrons?
Words have a way of breaking beyond the barriers that
Humans love to create around themselves.
Do my words have the power of a laser beam?
To cut through the human emotions and sensibility,
Hardened by the daily struggle of existence, provoking them to a newer understanding?
Words cure, caress, and make love,
Hate, fight, and go to war.
Words….
Like a gentle breeze, breath life to the dying,
Like dew from heaven, give hope to the hopeless,
Like the wayward forest fire, burn everything that comes their way,
Like rain on hot summer days, rejuvenate the thirsty.
Do the words I draw do all these?
Words…..
mean more than they are implied to be,
And, sometimes, less than they intend.
Words……
sometimes need not be spoken to be understood,
And yet, remain beyond comprehension.
Originally published at https://barun.substack.com.
