Looking Back

The point of certain
Kinds of languages
Seems to be to close

In on the quarry
Of beyond language—
To go beyond words,

Reach the numinous,
At least get a glimpse.
That yearning’s intense

In the dream’s dreaming
Of dream’s transcendence,
As if words were clouds

Near the edge of space,
Voyagers crossing
The heliopause.

Aspirational.
You don’t need to go.
There’s no beyond words,

Only a before.
It’s when you entered
Language that you left,

And if you can’t reach
What you want to say,
You’re not far enough

From having too few.
The estrangement
You feel from your signs

Rolls through the far side
Of heliopause.
You’re back of beyond.