Slithering sinuously along one’s tongue
From aft to fore
Rolling with increasing delight to springboard from tip
Splashing into the unsuspecting ear of the casual listener
And the receptors of the alert eavesdropper of one’s
thoughts
At times it floats
Gently
With languid feather-like grace
The softest, barest whisper across open consciousness
Eager to receive contact like an expectant lover
Awaiting chaste kiss
Other times
It bears grim resemblance to Mjolnir, flung from Thor’s
mighty grip,
In weight and purpose
Searing marrow, blood, soul, even subconscious with divine
accuracy
And speed
This lightning; spreading flames while dragging its thunder
Ponderously through one’s being
Ensnared within its burning web
One is unable to escape its touch
Mirror and window it constructs
Gateways and worlds it creates
Highways and byways and goat paths delineat-ed
So simply is one led
And made to see
All the creations of man and divine
In stark contrast
As blurred lines are brought to sharp focus
One is moved…
By sin, guilt or sorrow
One is moved…
By warmth, compassion or love
No not a one can remain at rest
When the Word begins to manifest
Glen Toussaint 2013©
