Word

        Word

       

The pain of not to know

a words true meaning -

(a heartfelt paradox

so tautologically entwined)

brain travels inscapes

of the mind

the universe declaims

I AM - the exocentric

altar. Delving

through layers of time

exploring a fresh terrain -

we dream of worlds

where words were not yet

known. We fail to understand.

Seeking our solace

in links with primal man -

we feel the air vibrate

with all our fears,

and through the storm

we hear the voice that tears

at our discretion.

All is, and nought eludes

our sense, each particle

is new, and each the wholeness.

Then vision fades.

Unable to untie

our deepest fears,

from realms of theory,

we seek salvation

in vacuity -

unable to unite

the reasons for this life

with joy in living

we yearn for sunlight

to dissipate the gloom -

at each encounter

ache for renewed creation.

The phase explodes -

gone is all sense

and reason yields

to circumstance.

Our reminiscence magnifies

the mis-spent days -

heroic sacrifice

now reeks of self-abuse.

Our word-linked knowledge

looks to primal man -

speaking of worlds

where words were not yet known -

no matter how we squirm

we fail to understand

that words

are still the master

of the man.

                      

                              Malcolm Evison