Ardent inarticulacy

Ardent inarticulacy
 
My Lord is the ancient, unspoken Word. 
I am infatuated with the common tongue. 
 
All poems are a description of this earthly realm. 
This realm is naught but a description of Reality.
 
Meher Baba is the Truth. 
That’s why He stopped speaking.
 
Each night I curl up with my dictionary,
thumb through its assorted
                                                   
definitions and descriptions,
delve into my trusty thesaurus;
 
quietly roam the contours of my extensive vocabulary.
Words on paper.  Words on the screen.
 
How can I not be infatuated with words?
They are the nearest thing I have to His silence
 
and I only become silent myself when His Truth
brushes up against me and I am robbed of speech.
 
O child of God, how loquacious you have become
in your ardent inarticulacy.      
 
(painting by Joe DiSabatino)