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.

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.