Words
Words can sting and cut like a knife, lingering in the air we breathe, like a virus ready
to strike.
Carrying shades of gray that trail through our midst with storm clouds ready to explode in
our minds,
While we anticipate the lightning strikes that sear our hearts. Never forgetting the pain
and questions
that swirl like a tornado, ready to destroy every good thing in its path, adding growing
resentment like a
volcano, ready to spew hot venom at any time. Listen to your heart; let your words flow
slow, with
precision and meaning, with love and honor. Let them flow like butterflies fluttering on a
cool spring day.
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