Wordsmiths at Work

They are millions—  

Countless and aplenty.  

Some are simple and straight,  

While others twist and turn,  

Strange and unexpected.  

  

Some wear their truth on their sleeve,  

While others hide behind veils.  

Sweet, funny, simple, complex,  

Strange, confusing—  

Look alike, yet known by different names.  

Look different, yet called the same.  

  

Whew!  

  

A bit of this,  

A bit of that,  

Yet each one unique,  

A reflection of its roots—  

A testament to its origin.  

  

You can know them,  

But here's the thing…  

Never chase them.  

Let them find you.  

  

Do they have to be grand and intricate?  

Not at all—  

Plain and simple holds its own magic.  

Do you have to borrow them?  

Do I hear you nodding, "AI AI" (Aye Aye)?  

No need.  

  

Let them be yours.  

Nothing is more fitting—  

More true.  

Let them be yours to claim.  

  

Don’t anticipate their arrival—  

Simply wait.  

Make hay while the sun shines,  

Let the night pass,  

Welcome the dawn—  

And watch them bloom within,  

Shaping your creative mind  

As they emerge—  

Astounding, unbound, free.  

  

Do they need to sound like Greek and Latin  

To impress the intellects?  

Not at all.  

They only need to echo  

The language of the soul.  

  

Build them.  

Express them.  

Write them.  

Silence doubt,  

Dismiss judgment,  

And embrace the beauty of my language,  

'My Dear Wordsmith'.