This is for the two-year-olds who cannot be understood because they speak half English and half God. Shake the dust.
-Anis Mojgani, “Shake the Dust”

Didn’t Adam babble? Could more be done?
Language sprung from pure ecstasy of breath,
untouched by culture, colony, or death—
those sure first words of God’s first earthly son.

The eighth psalm sings God’s glory is chanted
by the mouths of babes and infants. Bulwark:
gibberish so true and strong as stonework.
Things kept from wise, to childlike granted.

And so the toddler recounts his story
from his car seat in the rearview mirror.
Yey dun kar dey dah dah: chanted glory.
To angels, what language could be clearer?
Heart-sprung poetry as offertory—
the front-seat mother a blesséd hearer.

Originally published in Ekstasis Magazine and The Aiken Standard