Whether we write or speak or do but look
We are ever unapparent. What we are
Cannot be transfused into word or book.
Our soul from us is infinitely far.
However much we give our thoughts the will
To be our soul and gesture it abroad,
Our hearts are incommunicable still.
In what we show ourselves we are ignored.
The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged
By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.
Unto our very selves we are abridged
When we would utter to our thought our being.
We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams,
And each to each other dreams of others’ dreams.


PHOTO CREDIT : JR KORPA

 

Affiliate Disclosure: Some of the links or advertisements in the wordket website are affiliate links or advertisements, meaning, at no additional cost to you. We will earn a commission, if you click through and make a purchase. Thank you 🙂

Leave a Reply

You May Also Like
Read More

Conversation

Where words shrink mere devices of exchange Where gestures go vain meaningless move of muscles Where it’s eyes…
Read More

The Pause

How can I think, or edge my thoughts to action, When the miserly press of each day’s need…
Read More

Untouched Memories

Thought was born blind, but Thought knows what is seeing. Its careful touch, deciphering forms from shapes, Still…
Read More

Remember

Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no…
Read More

Hallowe’en

A gypsy flame is on the hearth, Sign of this carnival of mirth. Through the dun fields and…