Words pt. 2-the expanse (1999)

When I used to lie beneath the sun,

and contemplate the span of the daisies

I would, without exception, become trapped in my own mind

Between my two thoughts that were reaching for connection, but

both fell short

I was young, yet earnest, in my attempt to understand

As I grew poetics poured out sweat that became me

rather I became it

Thoughts reduced to rhyme and meter,

and their willingness to be expressed

No more pen to paper to dream

of daisies, or ceilings, or tables, or touches unless adequately portrayed

My portrait grew proud as I became the thought

Now I sit as a symbol, if only to myself, that

no cry is loud enough, no feeling real enough,

no glance long enough, no leap faithful enough

unless it is an acknowledgment

of a cry that never ends, or a feeling that is everything,

or a glance that is a blockade, or a leap that ends only in flight

Words are a necessary boundary on love

For each expansion they create, they neglect a subtle, yet complex, other

These words are needed

for they demonstrate trust that I have laid in the field,

I have pondered the origins of love and of daisies, as have you,

and my contemplation tells me that it is beyond my expression,

while grounded in my mind, the connection I strove for

I don't have the words for the significance of these daisies,

but my acceptance of their power is the fire motivating my hand

I will sit beneath the sun, perhaps once again, of this I'm sure

words are words silencing and echoing

hands are hands neglecting and touching

daisies are daisies wilting and growing