If words be a door to the mind, read on.

Shower my conscience, conscious immersing, 

The innocence may surface and drift by.

That phrase again, it has a common call.

A whisper is far more than whistling noise

That seize upon a palate of hunger,

Breathing a kiss consuming a savor.

A refreshment now as it was before.

Awaken from dust in form you have taken.

The written and spoken land on the field 

Like seeds of the orchid sifted alive.

Guided embryonic thoughts to be raised.

Just orphans inheriting homes of clay.

Let them find coherence and purity

Dodging the gauntlet of rival slogans.