I shall never be able to say
what really matters.
I know only what my heart knows,
and it refuses to release the words.
Not that it is different from myself,
but do we own everything
that we are?
Does the workaday deserve
what is rare or extraordinary in us?
Can one pray to the public?
Make love in a stadium?
Tell a child the secrets
of grass and trees?
Touch the bark of an oak
and explain the softness of a hand?
It is impossible.
The language of the soul travels light years.
It comes from the seed
of forever’s beginning.
It looks at the world and tells the eyes,
this is the garden of all becoming,
the valley of all journeys,
so I shall be quiet.
I will love,
aware of an infinite source.
I will know,
but have no words to tell you
what I know.
I will love you,
with a heart that is flying.
I will simply walk through the day
and follow you with my eyes,
loving you,
and not explaining,
passing the time of day.