The Still Ground

The problem of language is that it shifts while staying

perfectly still.

The problem of truth is that like a very clever fish
or freaking fly
it won't stay what it is
for language to catch it.

The overarching unanswerable question
for which you can hardly begin to find the words
for which metaphor is the metaphor
and poetry the vehicle
whose breakdown
provides only the dim comfort of assurance
and the sadness of knowing
it is there

maybe

urging you closer by this
 

whose words shift

at the fault—
carrying the net of your mind
like a dimsighted guide—
where metaphors
dissolve
and wordless being
emerges
 
where the still ground
shakes
and there’s nothing
you can do.