Words,
like rocks in a drum,
tumble around, over each other,
through grit,
polishing,
refining,
evolving.

There are people who
rush their words,
take them out too soon,
while they're still rough,
unfinished thoughts.
Jagged edges and blurred,
vague lines
tied together
with awkward knots,
make little sense.
They grasp too hard,
and the ideas
crumble under the weight
of their haste.

Still others hold their words in
too long,
letting the thoughts roll around,
tumble together
until the grit
and the ideas are
indescernible.

There are wordsmiths,
jewelers,
who know
when to take them out,
how to string them together,
how to finish them
into works
that shine brightly,
leaving an impression
on others.

Words,
tumbling together,
like rocks in a drum.

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