The End of All Sayings

We are words when all books close

to move minds to mystery,

drive spirits towards source of power.

Humanity has forgotten

a time no one spoke.

When rhythm and meter

presented endless mediums.

The tempo through which all life passed.

The energy of messages a stupendous libretto

manifested in newly born cries.

Splendor

not even kings command.

Untouched embodiment

with unlimited potential

to transmit untold volumes.

And for an instant

the people strain memory.

Tune thought to a station that hasn’t been heard in a millennium.

Suspense

the orchestra vibrating all strings in unbroken chords.

Intensity for an instant.

When alignment is achieved

and it all comes back.

A torrential deluge.

Inner smiles and silent knowledge staggers on.

Impossible to translate such vast domains

where unspoken meanings

traverse as sovereign

so I become words

when all books close.

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