Speak, friend, then only know:
words do not offer themselves up
simply to lay some garish support
under your longings, deep emotions.
That, friend, is the hardest thing
the toughest thing, about them:
That they are not so tough, so durable
when they rush out, such, back to front.
You must be careful as a foreman is careful
checking the dynamite is layed correct
that is doesn’t jump before its time
that it lies along the faultlines, trim.
Don’t make yourself comfortable
making the air vibrate – wait.
Dwell with your ideas, test them
as a lover tests their lover:
caressing to find the right response
but not with force, though they may find
those which bring forth forceful truth
which chime the bells already hung
(rather than busily hanging false ones)
which call reality into the light
not those which clash and disappoint –
with the only half resplendent noise
that gives the word its reputation
as a toy…
Only think what you are saying.
You need not say it, though it’s hard to keep.
And if after, you have seen the truth,
shining in its constant glory…
Then, friend, speak.