Which We Have No Words For 
 
The almost gripping need
Like an immediate translation 
So fast and habitual 
Becomes almost comfortable 
So familiar due to its repetitive happening
This need to view and release a stress response 
Is what keeps us locked within a few heavy concepts 
That we call words 
Our words assume and ascribe meanings to those that we have words for 
In a way that the magnificent vastness of the moment is ignored 
In favour of what we have words for 
And heavy meaning for 
And the meanings are always in heavy divisive compartments 
So, the familiar becomes what we know well and what causes the stress of meaning for it 
Yet the great immediacy 
It’s incredible variety 
It’s stupendous magnitude 
Is just too immediate and magical for the past to come in to 
Can we finally 
Through sheer exhaustion and boredom of all we know 
Be finally amazed and fascinated 
By that which is always here 
Fresh and new
Which we have no words for 
And never can