Across Thresholds

There are words that we recall,

their promise fleeting,

veil, once lifted, vanished

as intent,

mercurial, they missed their capture,

meaning

lost in moments’ madness

though well-meant.

There are words we’ve never heard that speak

more truly,

caught in throats, in hearts,

that rarely vent,

carried in that meditation,

duly

transmitting more

than all sound ever spent.

There are times the nothing speaks

a thousand voices,

meanings pluralised,

sublimely sent,

demystified, these murmurs,

among noises,

drowning out, in muted,

letters lent.

There are words we sometimes wish

we’d never uttered,

some there are we wonder

why we heard,

as those that find their way,

in silence stuttered,

cross thresholds,

sublimating word for word.

Formatting

You can be right here,

where I am,

with words that barely censor

who we are,

Pictures wrought and writ

ensure a presence,

as eloquent as spoken,

though afar.

I can be there,

right where you are,

in a crazy coded heartbeat,

transmission of the vowels

caught in consonants, combined,

Transference of all thought

in letter’d format,

Bringing close together

hearts and minds.

 

Failure To Transmit

Media,

Main job,

To question and inform.

Methodology almost immaterial

In raising awareness.

Religion,

Only job,

To manifest love in the world.

Methodology immaterial.

One failed in its task.

Reasons immaterial.

Both fail regularly.

Excuses immaterial.

Failure to transmit.