INARTICULATION
Thoughts into words like flowers go
herded under winter snow
Far their range when they are free
In unspoken liberty
Music without the words is sooth
To reveal the heart’s vast truth
Borders of language can confine
What in feeling is gold refined
Then should silence still prevail
All our words will surely fail
Measuring the measureless sky
Across which migrant birds must fly.
mary angela douglas 27 may 2024
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