you cannot say
what has to be felt first
words, they come like ushers
after the event
to clean up, to escort
to appraise, to appease
there is no medium of earth
not saturated
with human’s feelings
even the lava
is quickly taken
for human cause
if I find
any two surfaces touching
they are speaking about us
by grind, by shriek
by hum, by noise
there is no wait involved
but constant is
as shape shifters allow
recognition is
on the other hand
over brow
loving as an antidote
as a portrayal
as an accomplice
or as an anecdote
is lost in translation
from you to me
or me to you
we are not cuttings
seeking existence
we are seed and soil
seeking to express light
as reflected through us
we are each
some of ground
some of kernel
across the fertileness
we these beings
you have left breath
in the megaphone
after the sound has passed
that which is done
with carelessness and abandon
leaves the crumbs
of in-breath essence
beyond the cause or carriage
I know of them in the well
and know of them in passing
they are the applause
of the journey undisclosed
they are the essential-ease
yet unrevealed
to the untrained sense
of passage
your silence s
peaks volumes
but cannot conceal
the fragrance of you
I am an array
in collective embrace
to your sky
small deaths come and go
with each breath
my violin
away from your touch
plays faintly
my song
is your lyrics codified
sung from deep within
unexpectedly
with muted but crisp refrains
is bellowed
beneath and blinded bygones
yet sung beyond the appearance
of this solitude
you have an ear for it
where we are the acoustics
of what plays as us . . .
you cannot say
No comments:
Post a Comment