With Feeling

When they say that there aren’t words to describe—

the wonderful, the passionate, the unfathomable pain—

That is a lie

There is always a word, a name,

something that can be formed in letters,

with careful curves of the ink on the page

It can spell out the the more literal words

It can tell, it can say

But there is a lacking—

something proud that words on a page cannot do—

For they are words, words not feelings

And they do not fill in the you

The words did not feel the heat of the sun on your skin

The ink did not swim from a bottle

to fill your glass with wine and sin

and joy and all that is blissful

So the words on the page may say drunk,

they nod in knowing,

because who has never been drunk?

But they will never nod in feeling.

One can read the words and imagine,

conjure a silent image in the mind

But it doesn’t fill in the feeling

of what you felt in that time

So yes, there are words a plenty

to describe, describe, describe

But emotion is fleeting

and cannot be transcribed