I like to think that <br />there's a language <br />which is unspoken, unwritten <br />except <br />on rare occasions when a poet <br />puts two words together or <br />sometimes even <br />a whole line <br />which haunts the reader <br />beyond sense, even <br />beyond understanding and <br />beyond beauty as perceived and <br />beyond truth as previously revealed <br />but good beyond hope and yet <br />not beyond a shiver of delight and <br />the poet has heard it <br />in the space between the thoughts <br />in the space between the words <br />in the silence between the thoughts <br />in the silence between the words <br /> <br />and somewhere very wonderful <br />two beings we've never seen <br />look at each other <br />and smile<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0396-the-almost-unknown-language/
