POEM - The Word

The Word
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We are the word -
Thought refracted
Like sleek pond fish
In slow, churlish
Murky water.

We are air that
Begins as wish,
Hidden within
Folds of furrowed
Brain, lost in the
Un-spelunked caves
Of expansive hearts.

We are sound that
yearns to be spoke
aloud, bubbling
sound, up from the
holy diaphragm,
Piped through warm tubed
Airways, over
The flat noodles
Of our vocal chords.

We are the sound
Swirling at the
Base of the throat,
Over the glottis,
A resonant ghost
Dredged up by spirit
We try to deny,
To keep to ourselves.

We are warmed
Air over fleshy
Tongue, between teeth,
Hissing like flooding
Vernal waters,
Snaking over lips
Freely into air,
Until it escapes,
Is free and is
Up for grabs.

We are the word
Long held captive -
That you helped loose -
This prisoner
From its flimsy
cage: gratitude.