WORDS

I love words. I love the way they look on pages and on people's lips. I love the way they sound spoken and sung and whispered and silenced. I love the way words can be combined to form phrases that shake me senseless or calm my spirit. I love poems and songs and stories and the authors that write them because they must love words too, and that makes us kindred spirits. And I love kindred spirits. I like old words better than new ones, words like celestial and comely, efflorescence and ethereal. Murmurous. Redolent. Dazzling. Summery. Snow. 

Look at this beautiful poem by Langston Hughes and tell me it doesn't ignite warm, good things in you?

The earth-meaning
Like the sky-meaning
Was fulfilled.

We got up 
And went to the river,
Touched the silver water,
Laughed and bathed 
In the sunshine

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