Perhaps when we don’t know what to say
we have at last arrived at the one true thing—
and in our thrill to share it with words, dilute it.
It is like the seed, perhaps, that in sprouting
at last understands its purpose, only
now it is no longer a seed.
How easy it is to lose revelation.
Not that it is ever gone—more that it
drops its petals, and we are left
holding an empty stem, trying
to remember how beautiful it was,
failing to see how beautiful it is.