"I want this music and this dawn
and the warmth of your cheek against mine.
The grief-armies assemble,
but I'm not going with them.
This is how it always is
when I finish a poem.
A great silence overcomes me,
and I wonder why I ever thought
to use language."
~~ Rumi from "A Thirsty Fish"
Words are so inadequate. The more I write, the clearer that becomes. I fear if I continue trying to record my thoughts, they will soon become sheer gibberish.
Maybe they already have.~~GH
