we are our purest voice
when light first hits our face
and we tell the world who we are
without thought or knowing
but soon the galloping tide of words
flood our virgin sands
and we are laden with expectations
that build new walkways we so confidently stride out on
yet do we ever learn to talk
buried as it now is
under glassy temples and featureless waves
our first and purest voice?
paulhp poetry 