The soul is a word.
\nAll things are words,
\nThey grow hands and feet.
\nThey are born whole,
\nmeaning what they mean
\nthen erode
\nwith mountains melting, and
\nthe end of glaciers.
\nThey wear out like time
\nand build new towers
\nfor bells and telescopes,
\nhuts of reed
\nreplaced by palaces of glass,
\nand poems inside us
\nbecome exhausted
\nwearing out shoes,
\ndisappearing as the words
\nthat composed them die,
\nand our hearts grow old,
\nwith new shoes and faces
\nnot quite saying who we are.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The soul is a word. All things are words, They grow hands and feet. They are born whole, meaning what they mean then erode with…<\/p>\n