Our Cross

Language is alive.

It carves delight upon our tongues.

It is rooted deep within us.
Do not suppress it.

Tall toothsome tomes dwell in cell bodies.
Open them!
Lift up the white sheet!

Raise your voice and shout,
I am !
I can !
I do !

Language is a phonic flame in our throats.
Don’t let them hurl water on you.

Words are your companions – precious protectors.
Choose them wisely.

Words are fire breathing dragons
that can slay your worst enemies.
Pick the right ones, and you leave
this life a free soul.