Words words words
we trade in words all our life.
Relations built and broken by words.
Hearts hurt or melded together by words
but when I look heavenwards
all words melt away
and my soul talks to its creator
in a language strange
like the hissing of pent up steam
or the brooks sweet music
or the silence of the valley
like the pitter patter of raindrops
on the desert sands
or the call of the cuckoo for freedom
trapped by a magician wicked
Where do they teach this language
what school college or university
O my Father my Lord Almighty
anurag duggal
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-language-of-the-mystics/
