I have not words for you

I have not words for you
to say when we meet,
to color my longing,
remember the brush
of your nearness

We have not words for you
cannot bear recollection
of turbulent train,
trace the stars raining
scars in the darkness

Our words birth distortion --
scratch wounds on the page, become
artifacts, tombs for our heart-
sickness lost in the turbulent wake
drawing lines in sand of our souls

Yet birth them we must
in a Requiem raucous to honor this
Passing among us --
our thoughts dare to compass
the shades of our consciousness

We know all we know
in our blindness --
in musty calm catching
our breath in the empty where
lately the Word lay entombed

Bo Gordy-Stith
January 24, 1997