Sole journey

solitude

I love words,

their satin texture,

their rich timbre–

tasty morsels–

carefully arranged

on a platter,

wetting my appetite.

 

Yet I understood,

how those words

failed you,

when you went,

to that place–

beyond euphoria

or magic’s magnificence.

 

I moved with you,

in your solitary dance–

a spectator

to illusive images,

inconclusive insights,

evocative emotions

which you tried to convey.

 

In the end, I knew.

Words were wasted,

lost in translation

in a language that

you solely understood,

not spoken or heard.

On that journey…

 

we each must travel, alone.