Words

They are like the work of an evil child

Dry and sharp

They waited for me to say something

So we could go on

But I found I had nothing to say

It was strange to me

For myself I try to understand

But it is difficult

It became more and more impossible

To think of something to say

Their eyes were frosted

Waiting for words

I was a thousand miles away

Thinking about what to say

The silence continued

Then, The surface tore

Like a great bursting sweep of wind

Words

Patient and forbearing

With joy and pride

I could speak out volumes

The words changed and changed again

But soon, the words were dazzling