A Native Tongue

Come to the place made up of people

Like age old rhyme of churches and steeples

Instead of tiny hands and wide eyed delight

A meeting of minds and an urge to write

One click, two click, three click, more

Keystrokes rapping on imagination’s door

No easy thing exploring cathedrals of catharsis

Which is why I’ll guide you through the digital darkness

Look to the genres for likeminded thinkers

Behold the challenges linking shyest of fingers

Comments, shares and bookmarks in a row

Ways to communicate with those most exposed

Because it’s not enough to write and lock your thoughts away

Like primal appetites to be fed and fought for another day

Prose isn’t your journal to be tightly gird

Your ideas are public and we crave to be heard

We may don the masks of usernames and alter-egos

And we may create pasts and futures as fictional depots

But this community speaks a singular native tongue

And writing is just another breath from our lungs