The Earth's got a firelit navel

hidden in darkness revealed in the light
spreading wings over the Tower of Babel
torn down in ashes that it may grow
bespoken by silence that it may know
the joys of speech when all sounds reach
the highest point in all the wordles
the joys of speech when all sounds reach
the joints of crosswords over the hurdles

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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