“Death and life are in the power of the tongue,
and those who love it will eat its fruits.” – Proverbs 18:21
What if we saw our speech for what it is?
What if we saw its power performed
In the beauty and brutality of life
—and death?
Our tongue ought to act as midwife,
Made and trained to bring life—
To echo experimental coos
And inspire smiling shrieks of surprise,
Bubbling over with unaffected delight
As gurgles give way to giggles
And lead, at long last,
To a baby’s full-bellied laugh.
But too often it proves more deft
As an angel of death—
Battering breath into bruised ribs
And wracking them with the reaper’s rattle,
Puncturing thinned skin
Again and again and again
Until it can bleed no more
In the face of the final say.
Ryanne Molinari 