Wordless poetry

Wordless poetry
 
Shall I recite a wordless poem?
Just to give my jaw a break.
 
Composed of heart mumbles,
murmurs, cadences and rhythms.
 
The world begs for salvation
but all we ever get is eloquence,
 
pomposity – towering shelves of books,
volumes and volumes of explanations.
 
No wonder my Lord was silent.
After reading the fine print,
 
I’ve learned that Truth doesn’t enter
the heart through the eyes or ears. 
  
It is not explained by the mouth,
nor realized in the brain.
 
So let us idle our useless tongues
and pray for a poem composed
 
of the Master’s Silent Word, the one
we have been ever longing to hear.
 
O child of God, words are never more
than inert descriptions of the evanescent Truth.