these words

there’s a failing, there’s a weakness
in our formidable vocabulary
for those descriptions of emotion
beyond their garden variety

at best, these words are mere reflections
brief images of an ocean’s surface
whose depth is as often misjudged by the listener
as it is concealed by the speaker’s apprehension

with a child’s conviction, we speak of ‘suffering’
the cuts, bruises, and stings of a day’s play
having yet to comprehend, even imagine
the varying forms of loss which follow time

so does the drama of humanity,
experience, exceed all a man can say
assuming he had courage enough
to intend revelation of his true heart

and love, to speak of it, oft means no more
than the recollection of those in conversation
whose memories, be they sour or sweet
subconsciously sway some imminent will

let us not ‘fall’, then, into these words
but use them, share them, learn from them
to create our own scene for a new drama
one lived the same as it is spoken

where the best of faith, love, trust, and respect
give each the confidence and ambition
to dive deep beneath that ocean’s surface
in search of the beauty we dreamed would be below


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