What can I show you in mere words
requiring some shared frame,
a reference we both use to describe
a common ground only imagined
that in the vanity of hope we craft
of veiled illusions, archetypes
that may at best, sleep undiscovered,
buried in our separate egos?
What chance, if I fail to meet you
at some halfway point, by trying
just to tell you of my vision,
using concrete words we both know,
is there for our split subconscious
to agree on deeper symbols,
hidden glyphs or long lost mythos?
Yet you would insist that showing
best conveys intended meaning,
makes connection worth exploring
between minds that seek no merging.
Thus fails poetry.
05 JUN 2005
“I gotta use words to talk to you.” — T.S. Eliot
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