When the tongue we use
Is the one we abide
What can be expected?
If it’s not just the ONE we accept
The different sounds around,
are the ones we dwell in
Little do we fear, every time
we march at our own pace.
The road ahead has many colors
Molding as it becomes part of us;
Even as the pebbles find your step
Just as many could bring a way
As a bridge may unfold
Only if you let it be
Like water passing through fire
Passing by, becomes perspective of desire.