'An Argument for Silence'

 

Could it be that the most truly

vital parts of life cannot be put

into words rightly?

 

Neither writing nor talk,

no matter how eloquent
or poetic might not be
adequate to the task.

 

That waterfall up ahead through

the tall pungent pines in all its

sprawl and plunging froth, its

 

strident wild roar, nature's

wet and freshest dancer, is

not the waterfall itself.

Ask it who it is.

Listen for the answer.

 

The finger pointing at the moon

is not the crescent moon, nor

the precious single finger,

and that’s the point,

or is it?