Taught that words came first, we fail
To see the magic in our sails.

Searching for some God, we fall
Before we comprehend at all.

Weighted by some ancient sin,
We fold our wings against the wind.

Yet ivory towers pale compared
To the wordless moon's eternal stare;

And there is no single phrase describes
The value of a human life.

We strive to find the perfect phrase,
A spell to win the perfect day,
And utterly fail to realize
That life itself is the highest prize.

Everything we do and say
Really ought to underlay
The value of that bowl of gold,
The silver cord, unbroken mold.

Time is fleeting, life is scarce
To waste its moments chasing airs.
So long the search for all its ends,
Better to spend it making friends

Than fashioning words into a knife,
To strike out at the very life
Words glorify.