A word or few can hold within its qualms
Entire universes of mysteries and miseries
From that initial jog into view down to
That final extirpation out of entropy’s final thrust.
Lives, of course are more than words, contain
Wonder and pain, love and disgust in configurations
Well beyond the noun or adjective or even verb.
One must contain a throat to scream, a mind
To dream, that sense immense cannot condense
Existence into the formalities of utterable sound
Or even scribbles symbolizing oddly the lightning of life,
That flash of clash that streaks through every now
May echo in linguistic thunder to trace the wonder
Of reality but there is no way that actuality can be trapped
Into the tangles out of the consonants and vowels enwrapped.