Word wranglers wound up together,
in an Exchange at a Hotel.
One said this, others said that...
And many a flute of fizz gulped and guzzled while sat
in between giggles and gazes, as
The past was pulled, kicking and screaming, into the present.
Was it a gift?
Were past pains put to peace?
Or did it awaken promises long forgotten,
Once under the authority of the surgeons' scalpel?

Shakespeare wrote, “The pen is mightier than the sword.”
Solomon, in Proverbs, posed that the power
of life and death is in the tongue;
Words create worlds, said I to thousands of teenagers over the years,
Whether written or spoken words liberate or load us up.
This power is with us every minute of every day in every hour.
Will I write new words with my wieldy weapon whence today?
Will wild blossoms bloom in your heart or
Weeds wither the hope in your womb?

Death always steals the show,
But it is joy that jump-starts it.
Entering within, re-wiring love,
Breathing new life, with new words;
Remembering promises
Of a powerful and plentiful future;
Declaring death dead and life to be lived!

I hear you, little girl,
You don’t need to hide.

I hear you, little girl,
You don’t need to perform.

I hear you, little girl,
You are now growing into a woman.

I hear you, little girl,
And cry for the things that were stolen.

I cry for you little girl,
You can just be.

I cry for you little girl,
You are brave with much to offer.

I smile for you, little girl,
And am so proud of who you’ve become.

I heal for you, little girl,
And let you rest for a while.

Grey skies loom,
Threatening oncoming turmoil.
Or, a promise of loosening
Fixed ways?