With words

I am experienc-menting
with words—sound, expanse,
small, big as the world;
flowing, jarring, trilling
along as song and then
stopping to remind me
of the pause that is
thought along the way
to another group of
words that sad cry,
happy smile with the
grand banality of human
life and the strife that
follows us like a stray dog
begging for food in the
foggy cold morn of another
longing day—yes, with the lithe
and heavy art of words and sounds
in embolden permutations, in
combinations, and unceasing
with no repetitions till the
universe shall give up its treasured
heat and the gods shall die, and
all will be whisper lilting quiet
for an eternity of absent nothing
that can never ever know itself.