“Tis folly”  he said.
“to write a word,
for all words mean all things
to all men,
and some words mean no thing
to some men,
even when they mean
everything to me.

I have weighed each carefully
in my heart,
using my feelings
as a scale.
I labeled things
only when I became a namer.

I loved only when I became
a lover
and I made life only
when I became a creator.

So I now write
to communicate
and find that man no longer reads.

Perhaps I will make marks on sand again.”

Primitive art by Veronica
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