Fractal’s Ancestral Puppeteer

From the grunts of primitive history
evolved the erosive,
the sometime subtle sound
of vibration’s gaping mouths,
like yowling crevasses,
echoing into words,
fearfully voiced from lips if closed,
might cause silence of thought.

How manipulative this control called vocabulary,
where intellect’s immutable dance-symbolesque
influences like a puppeteer,
determining what we see,
hear,
and ultimately feel
deep inside.

Desperately…

Tribal attachment clings to the tethered language,
fearing loss of grip will occasion precipitous failure
into glaciate-layers of lingual waste,
words uttered carelessly with little thought,
fracturing our resolve into scree-like projectiles
careening internally out of control,
rendering us defenseless and immobilized.

Resilience prevails,
patiently allowing restless valleys of polyglot sediment,
to roil through evolution’s next lingua franca,
becoming the next iteration of sounds and symbols,
destined as fresh and new,
so we tell ourselves.

To look skyward…

One is met by a cosmic wink at our sapient conceit,

as fractal’s ancestral puppeteer holds firm

the tendrils of change

in waiting.