Weight of Words Spoken

Some words root deep, in silence and eternity, like water erasing edges with time. Others skim quietly, like breath, vanishing before they settle into memory. To speak is to grasp something real in your hand, to touch its edges, its truthful weight. Let the words be those which sustain or ascend, as soothing as rainfall, as tender as morning light. If a word must slice, let it slice carefully; if it heals, let it only leave warmth, for words bring their roots’ pigments— that are building stones, steps toward a gentler path.