No Words

There are no words for anything but words.
Speech in its flight encounters only speech.
The three great gods bespoke life into thirds;           
Talking together on the world’s last beach,             
 
They found what words were of was out of reach:
The dream of contact died into a hum.
Hermetically we babble, each to each;
What can one say but speech?  A vacuüm, 
 
In other words, where language cannot come:
Is that the truth?  Down in the dark, the King
Whose name none speak reflects upon it, dumb;
The poet bows before him, whispering: 
 
"What is a thing?  The answer is a thing.
What is the sound of sound?  Go ask the birds,
Those flying, speechless things that sing (that sing):
There are no words for anything but words."

Ruth S. Baker

If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Ruth S. Baker  would be pleased to hear them