The language of the world

Light brush strokes
of tiny fibers press down
and spread the acrylic letters
into syllabic meaning.

Deft hands moisten and
roll the red earth words into shape
before letting them plop firmly
onto the poet’s page.

The steel knife slices into the
pinewood paragraph
whittling it into sharp
and ornate intention,
a delicate jewel that will
mend the hearts of men.

These words, my friend, are
an art unto themselves;
a noble grasp at pure and simple
truth: men make to find and, in
finding, love.