Where Words Are Not To Know by Amador T. Daguio

Where words are not to know but to resemble,

Where thoughts are no vain approximations

Of suprise-there is your face. Dissemble

Then the tragic moments: mute proclamations

Of wisdom woman knows-your nun-like face.

To walk (My love! My love!) where green leaves are

Bravely trembling to the music of sparrows!

To partake of blue joys hoping

From what birds I do not know! My blue guitar

Shall never twang again for bird-song never stopping!

There beats your heart where my poor one lies.

You have me back lost phrases:

The rain-gifts of the soul’s divine unreason!

I stand upon a height,

The fractured hill of manhood’s lingering pain

Where I pause between valleys of our speaking.

Now, my heart, a bird in fligh,

No longer cries for peace.


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