A Word

I am just a little thing,
Floating by on gentle wing.
Vibration of the crystal air,
Catch me, trap me, if you dare!

I waft on from wave to wave,
Spurred by the impulse motion gave.
Invisible to human eye,
Grander, loftier, than the sky.

Unseen, untouched, I stay elusive,
Still to some I am intrusive…


I’m carried by each windy draft
Revealing secrets by my craft.

I’m not a molecule or atom,
I won’t be fettered by such serfdom.
I leave behind me matter’s mask
I laugh at its ungainly grasp.

I may be just a little thing,
But I can bite and wound and sting.
Many a heart I’ve caused to bleed,
Dashing dreams with lightning speed.

I have started awful wars,
Nerved the arms that wield swords.
My motion changes; there is peace –
Sheathe the dagger and the kris!

You cannot trap me, though you try;
Release once given, abroad I fly.
Yet I leave only to come again,
Returning on hasty, sprightly wing.

I pass along on ripples of air,
I leave my mark in hearts everywhere.
Yes, I am greater than even the sword,
For my power is that of the spoken word!

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