I'm traveling light
with twenty-six letters,
twenty-six seeds,
twenty-six grains of salt

twenty-six sorcerer sounds

each one carrying the load
of the beginning and end
of human percept,

of demolition and construction
in between;

poetic expression
and instructions for genocide,
the mention of a mother's caring hand
and orders for the dropping of barrel bombs
over Syrian kids

and the calling of names
that explain we exist,
the calling of names
that explain who we are

when language itself
is falling apart
in its twenty-six constituents,
opening a silent abyss
of speechless indifference
at carnivorous cruelty
of war words
and the somnambulic following
of orders

but rising again sincerely,
breaking logic
in spage age Zen koans,
casting hilltop tales
from soaring castles
in safe childhood bedtimes

Yes, letters scramble and scatter,
line up, pile, disperse
in mirrors of world and mind;

cosmic tools,
for better, for worse,
spelling caskets and cradles

I keep them, behold them
at the tip of my pencil
prepared to flow 'cross the page,
dancing 'round the dimensions
of mind

the Word the Beginning
of the World as we know it

Doomsday
and appearance of Light
in one Breath

twenty-six steps
out of hisses and growls