The Indescribable... Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is this flow
remember water, and rain and some
drops from
those leaking roofs of those old houses
in our hearts

it has a sweet sound, no words can
capture it
it has not possessed the power of
vowels

in consonance with consonants
life goes on
our hearts leap, feeling oppressed
with the indescribable the mouth spits anger
what can it do in utter speechlessness?

i have learned it.
i cannot tell you.

watch me watching you.
i am the spectator in you the spectator too.

at the end we are not bound to say
what we have seen
for it is enough that we have seen it all
with happy hearts

have you spoken joy
have you written misery

i am listening to bocherini when
i am writing this
i do not understand a thing
nor attempt to do it to understand it

but here i am happy
to this contentment that i am still here
writing....

i remember bliss and the woman who once
entered the room of my house as she watches
a fruit bowl by the window

she did nothing. we did nothing.