Words or Hums?

       What are these symbols? Letters? Ink?
         Holding the meaning of what we think?

       If I had been born in a different time,
         Lines of writing would not fill my time.

       I may have grunted with purpose that led
         To all the words that have been said. 

       I may have hummed with feeling that drew
         From sentiments I knew as true.

       I may have hummed with a sing-songy tune,
         Spoke to my children by light of the moon.

       Now there is language, helpful and tricky.
         Some of the things that we hear become sticky.

       Is much of it useful? Much of it nice?
         To receive in the morn when we haven’t thought twice?

       Cleverly used and in most complex ways,
         What is it actually trying to say?

       Maybe the grunt and the hum as of yore,
         Would help us remember what we knew before.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

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