LANGUAGE, MY LANGUAGE

 

LANGUAGE, MY LANGUAGE

Let words be clear and crisp as apples

Fresh as the October air

Let meaning be clear

Transparent, as the first green of Aprils

Crystal as streams from the blue mountains,

Headwaters of dreams

Let there be light in every syllable

And the bubbling of birdsong

Let icicles hang from the snowy roofs

Of wordtown

to break off like stars

In the warming winter sun.

mary angela douglas 2 may 2024