Red Bead Speech
Language which says enough,
no more, no less,
simply that which has to be said.
Strung together, red pearls
rolled around the cheek with thought,
care and attention.
Red bead speech holds words
which float, crimson clean,
from that quiet place where
the heart has broken open
there is no going back.
I have collected a thread of letters
uttered through strange sounds and syllables.
Their grit,
caught by an oyster tongue,
born from irritation,
has become slowly
smoothed, polished, jewelled.
Dive deep and bring them to the surface,
shucking with gloved hand against
the flat rimmed voice of a cock pheasant
perched on the lightning branch,
his tail a bobbing rudder
in balance against his croak.
Red bead speech,
smoothed by the weight of stone
on the side of a hill.
