Words are only words.
I need to reach out
with my hands
and tell you, show you
what I mean.
After all,
aren’t we engaged
in more than just
communication?
Building reality
occasionally means
you must pick up
a hammer and nails.
The pen
can write a song,
can inspire
the heart of nations,
but it will never
lift a sword
to fight a war
to defend it.
Words and gestures
and the sounds
we make with our mouths
make for poor
shelter from the elements.
If we can live
only by the Word of God,
then the words of men
are nutrient deficient.
Sit here
and write a famine.
Compose
hunger and starvation.
These hands
need to dig the ground,
plant the seed,
and sow the harvest.
These hands
need to draw the bow
to take the bull,
if I am to feed you.
Words make weak meat
and poor grist for the mill.
Not to say
that words cannot
inspire,
or comfort
the afflicted
in their time,
but these hands can offer
an embrace that words cannot
and help
in a time of need.
DJR – 2022
