In which language?

 

In which language will you dance through pastures
down to the bottom of the valley
where the river runs under trees in dappled light?

In which language will you dream
of laughing with those you love
while you chase the spinning disc through the soft evening air?

What was the language you learned in your mother’s arms,
looking into her eyes,
your birthright, your native tongue?

Have you dwelt too long in other words,
so that the language of misery and complaint
is the first thing that comes into your head?

When your body tries to communicate with you,
must it speak in pain,
because that is all you understand?

To this are you invited:
study again the language of love and joy,
and practice at every opportunity.
Practice while you dance through pastures
down to the river.
Practice while you chase the spinning disc
through the soft evening air.
Practice while you smile into the eyes
of those you love.

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