Language Lesson

I keep asking nobody:

what made me?

At last two angels come,

I guess to aid me.

But one speaks only

Finnish and the other

one Hungarian.

I don’t believe they mean

to be contrarian. But who’s

in charge of sending

messengers like these?

C’mon now. Jeez.

But neither leaves.

One slyly smiles at me

and waves. And then,

somehow their inexpression

saves. Suddenly I see

the darkest curvatures

of night; that they

retain a seed of light –

about to dawn, to beckon

anything that whirls –

abounds – disturbs.

Few nouns –

innumerable verbs.

But in what language?

Those angels knew.

And now I do.

How had I missed it?

Love’s the grammar

I’ve resisted.

I’m to learn it after all.

I’m already in its thrall.

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