by Gideon Burton
With warm abstractions fortune bathes my hopes,
as though the sound of words could baptize time,
could fast adhere to heaven’s dangled ropes;
as though her breath could cause the deeps to shine.
I also summon words and with them pray
to God, expecting, reasoning my way
to fond conclusions. I have felt their sway
and thought I could with words cause peace to stay,
or at the least some mandate send on high.
But Babel speaks so clearly to my mind,
I fear the house I'm building as I ply
some wordy, wormy path to God. Resigned
to crudest tools, these forms of ink and air;
I wield them, spend them, send them, foul and fair.
Feel free to copy, imitate, remix, or redistribute this poem as long as you give proper acknowledgment of authorship. Image: Generated through Wordle.net from the words in this poem.
I need to try this thing out. So cool. And I love your writing too, btw.
ReplyDeleteThis one I get. The power and limitations of language. Isn't it funny how the two get confused sometimes?
ReplyDelete