Language
Language is not just a way of saying things
Words are a way of being.
A different way of seeing
To cease being strange in a foreign land.
Often we discover in a corner
Hidden traits in our makeup
A foreign person lurking there
Just waiting to wake up and speak.
Another me, another you
Our neighbors never knew
And so in traveling abroad
We embrace a different view.
There is no feeling we cannot copy
There is no sound that doesn’t echo
We are one cosmic tribe
Sharing links for one million years.
Moving forward with de Chardin
In a cosmic arc of grace
Many words and many nations
Arching in the sweep of heaven.
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