There are no words
for the deepest places in my life.
They cannot be named
or wrestled into some safe enclosure of explanation.
I fumble around looking
for some way to bring God
into a world that is already bursting with the Divine.
They say that it is the poet’s job
To get said
that which is unsayable.
But what if it turns out to be true
that some things
were better left
unsaid.
3 comments:
I love the paradox of this poem.
It's striking me as an excellent caution to keep in mind as I continue to work on the very difficult post inspired by our recent conversation.
another beautiful example of your poetry. I am in the midst of finding out how true it is that some things are better left unsaid. I am usually a spill it kinda gal. this is taking some practice and self control but i see the benefits.
Lovely poetry!
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