Love (of/and/for) Language

Like most firsts was also mine

Natural but fumbling, vaguely brave

A steadfast gist with blurry details

Although reserved a special place 

Today I know not of a relevant phrase

Next for those of endless toil

A trial in return for an attempt

Days of stubborn lesson and hand 

A golden star I earn

But when I say I feel what I feel

My amateur status reveals

For my share of giddy flings

Excited gathering of puzzle pieces

And reckless experimentation

No rules, rhymes or guarantees

But a handful of grammar-less sprees

And then for where I come from

With every ounce from my throbbing heart

Claiming dibs on my beginnings

My tastes and appearances in their all

Suggest my bountiful roots

But when its time to script my fare

My paper rests bare

Onto where I think I belong

Uncertain of a forever or for-now

Every minute of new familiarity  

Is a study of curious content

A mere string of letters together

To form my deepest thoughts

An inquiry of alternate endings

And a tight-rope of my part

From the shoulder of giants I look on

And of the kinds of love I know 

Every new endeavour towards it

I learn of language, the world and where I fit