Two Words

 

Fold not your speech in wandering cloaks

That float upon the winds and sigh,

Their liberty is but a hoax,

And false, wild freedoms murmuring die.

 

Tell not your tale to busy ears

That hum with drum and mandolin,

But only when the deep heart hears,

Allow your word to trickle in.

 

Two words are there: one's the penned scroll

And floral manuscript men see;

The other burns within the soul,

A fire of God, an alchemy.

 

The scriptures of the world lie writ

Within our vaults, unseen, unheard;

And still Truth's oracle must sit

In caverns dark to speak her Word.

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