Unexpressed

When words rush out,
Choc-a-block-
From the depths...
The Abyss
The void
Where you know
Nothing is-

They possess you.

They rush-
In a stampede,
Only to be met
By that awful lump
In the throat.

In that release-
Freed from fathoms far
Below;
Fleeing fiercely;
Never to be trapped
Again in that
Numbing vacuum;

They never thought
That freedom hung on
That breath …

The breath held tight-
Constricted in the chest-
Steely, cold, heavy.

And the words?
They pushed,
Every which way,
Seeking that escape:

So you let them.
Escape, that is.
Through the despair
Shouting from the eyes,
In the voiceless plea-
The cold sweat,
Drenching the palms.

And the anguished silence.

Yet,
The lump in the throat
Doesn’t dissolve.

Whatever the expression,
It can never be complete;
Unless the knot is untied,
And comfort warms
The cold hard lump-

Till it dissolves
And
The breath freed…

The words, of course,
By now, have found release.

Goes to prove
Just this-


Words, who needs them?





Usha, 17 April, 2008