Master Linguist

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Master Linguist, conjugate

A metaphor on Nature’s slate,

String Your Words like diadems,

Loose Your lexiconic gems.

Idioms, Creation’s cloak,

(Accents for the simpler folk)

Speak in volumes , tell in prose,

In every dialect disclose

The glory of Your Living Word.

Among the wonders I have heard,

I hear Your discourse in the breeze,

Syntax in the whispering leaves;

Alphabets in Milky Way,

Grammar at each breaking day.

Master Linguist, breathe in me

Words that shape my prosody.

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Branches Baring All

Calligraphic nibs

etch meaning in an empty sky,

fingernails scratching glass,

scribes recording ticks and tocks.

Abacus counting season’s syllables,

limbs leaking language

in a thousand tongues –

branches baring all.