For our Tale is not Linguistically Interpretable


53

How to keep silence, when every moment
Is as holy as a word dreamt upon the page?
At the zenith of poetry where

Metaphysics becomes a living necessity –
There, I shall dwell for a few weeks
Between the scavenging of hope

And the arms of my loving wife
Anguish was a revolution
How to keep the silence loose

When every moment bursts forth
In the beauty of the King of Kings
The place where aspiration travels

Off-shore, to alphabetic neutrality
A transparency of how ancient language
Leaves its mark on the spirit’s page

Sanskrit melding into mandarin
With an undertone of rolling Gaelic.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Paradise-404652006