In memory of the
Germination of words
I held dreams to the
Mansions of meaning
Remembering that myth
Permeated culture, a million
Notes within symbols
Hidden between the context
And the semantics
Of the dawn-wet architecture
Of how to think the same things
Each generation has thought
The important questions were
Immutable, a meeting place
Where all minds wound up
A municipal garden of intelligence
The corners and plaza where
Feelings, instincts and awareness
Intersect, like lightning
And the words meant nothing
They were only a bare minimum
Translation of experience
And experience wasn’t much
But a simulation of variables
An algorithm of sense
The salt and pepper of pulse-beats
Of time, but how the present
Was as untouchable and intangible
As ever, like a child who never ages.
Photo Courtesy:
Wuji Seshat 
“Dost thos remember that true and radiant morn…?” Beautiful!