Adrift
We have drifted into emotional waters.
Here, the poet must take the helm.
When the valiant falter under the weight
of visions that force mortals to babble
of "wheels within wheels" or
staircases that reach to heaven.
No pontificate voice is allowed
Under such circumstances.
Only a poet may speak-
and then in a whisper.
And when the frontier is finally breached
Silence is the only proper response.
I want to dance again
at the edges of creation
and sing a word or two with the angels.
There, I care not if the words
are comprehensible to men,
I, will recite my verse to God.