Lend me your ear, and I shall weave a spell,
Not with old chants, but tones that newly swell.
Forget the measured beat, the rigid line,
Let sound on breath in liquid patterns twine.
No longer bound by rules of strict iamb,
We'll ride the wave of whispered sigh and psalm.
Where consonants may clash like stones in streams,
And vowels bloom like sunlight through daydreams.
Let pauses hang, not where the commas lie,
But where the heart would catch, the mind would fly.
Let pitch ascend like larks at break of day,
Or plummet deep where shadowed feelings stay.
We'll shape the air with gesture, glance, and space,
And let the silence hold its own dear place.
For meaning lives not just in words defined,
But in the music of the speaking mind.
So let us chant this new, untethered song,
Where right and wrong give way to feeling strong.
A different recitation, fresh and clear,
For those who have the courage now to hear.