Abstraction

                                             

Sometimes words lie between us,
ones unsaid,
others which cannot be unsaid.

We learn to speak by watching our mother's mouth,
gazing at her face and listening
to the sounds in the air around us.

Each thing has a label attached,
waiting for it to be uttered
and so become real,

and when we learn to recognise
those things that have been labelled,
as with love
and hate,

we pass through the door
to elements concrete.

I look at titles before content,
glancing only sideways at first
towards the elements on view.
It gives you an idea
to hold on to.

Helen Keller knew the nature of water,
even before her teacher showed her
the sign.
I hope she never lost her sense
of smell or touch
as she got old.
Still, maybe all that naming of the parts
would have formed some solid notion
of the nature of things
inside her head,
and she wouldn't have been cast adrift again,
but been able to grasp the memory of things
and know the compensation
of ideas.

You have to jump off a building
to see things properly.
metaphorically speaking.
Let yourself go and fall free.
The restraint of a page,
or a frame,
will sustain you,
save you from complete obliteration,
so to speak,


but God help you if
you ever decide
to make
a piece
of
sculpture.