When Words Have Wings
by Scalar7th
When words have wings, they
flutter past your ears, and
shape and spin and twist and wind like wind.
Wind about the senses, in
blues and greens and whites,
oranges and purples,
veins of dark and light
and shallow swirls of soft sight,
When words have wings, they're
carried on the wind, they
soar and dip and dive and play in time.
When time slows so you can hear them,
and Calm flitters by,
it's impossible not to watch
to see Float float in the sky.
And never question why.
When words have wings, the
clouds are not to far, the
sun and moon and stars and sky in reach.
Relax in yellowed patterns,
can carry on the air
a passenger to sing with her
abandoning all care,
a moment, everywhere.
When words have wings, the
song that Silence sings is
warm and calm and tuneful and profound.
The melody chases, round and round,
to summon suppler things,
a Rest will westward ring,
as a Deeper from the south
a quiet hour brings.
When words have wings, leaves
join in rustling soft, their
greens a-muddled wildly in the scene.
When up among the shady trees,
ahead, behind, and in the breeze,
a dream might find a lovely mind,
which takes no cold in Freeze,
no cold in silent, winding leas,
the fluttered blues amid the trees,
the mind can slow to sing with these
wild words which wander, heavenward,
along the silvered breeze.
And in the shade, mistook for bees
the words with wings, Soft, Gentle, Good,
can draw a sleeper, deep in dream,
to Sleep, as dreamers should.
For wings can only give flight to these
imaginings of zephyrs, breath of
silent, long-lost winds, from all the
Warms and Cares and Quiets,
tying thoughts in strings of gossamer—
small words can level giants!—
And Gulliver in Lilliput, was
ne'er so solidly Bound
as when words with wings ascend the sky,
and bring the hearer, floating by,
to Down,
and Down,
and
Down.