Contented words–a poem

And the language is pleased

that he sits at that desk

and sifts through those words,

not just noting what could be the right one

but the others that could do too.


The language takes comfort in his care,

in his thoughts,

in his sober selection.

Words considered, but ultimately not chosen,

do not feel left out or slighted;

they are just thankful to have been

part of the process.


But the words that are chosen,

those are the ones that reap

the greatest pride.

They stand there on their lines

like soldiers at the guard

in a peace-time state,

simply holding their appointed post

no forward or offensive act necessary

but poised and ready for such

if to such they must commit.

They are ready to perform

any task their handler might require,

any function necessary to ensure

the message conveyed

is true and pure.

They know they have succeeded

when they look up and see

the mind of the writer

greet that of the reader,

at that point where they are well met.


And the language is pleased

for having been so well respected.



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