It Is Only A Word Poem by James McLain

Is it not the word of which it never says,
some three words that both i never 'said'
leaving it/is thus and never why;
The eye of the head which i never may see,
even as each proud bend of wild rivers
which blend off to the sea,
the closer you came the farther like wood it drifted apart.

It was but my hand and full it is still gone are you not,
and words from my pen, inked red hearts do wain, Unsustainable
but too the heart and where it foamed now how it talks
the waves wash me against, why around it i wander too sleep.

Plentifull children play is it the sand on the beach
and one grain only is my pearl that i keep
and sleep is to waking the deepest of my need of sleep
while only being quite ignites my compliance,
It is only by your world is it not, i walked with you within.
Is it not with too many and which my/why i now sleep so.

...
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s.t.