Rushing Like A Ripple

you can't
write a poem
in the shape of a spiral
curling down
out of the blue
like an aircrash jetstream
like the myth of the boy
who beat a giant
in a contest of strength
because he threw a sparrow -
they both were silent,
watching it curve out of sight -
you can't
write down a tree as it really is -
luminous monochrome in moonlight,
careless colour carousel in sunlight -
you can't
find any words for loving her,
the unbearable emptiness
and fullness of it,
a scream and a tear and a smile

cast together into crystal,
kissed into clear glass
for warping light and time

rushing like a ripple in a river