911

If I accept that I can never know

Any more than this small human brain,

With its hardwired synaptic flow,

Can compass in the brief years that remain,

How on earth can I make sense of you

Who saturate my soul and fill my heart

With joy, beyond my meagre means to show,

And love's uncomprehended, enearned dart?

Words alone can only go so far

Confusing at the instant that they reach

A willing ear, where cold semantics jar

The mind, searching beyond what words might teach

          And all the while the universe runs on

          In conscious hope, as when it first begun.

Brian Hick March 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 17.3.23