We return from the mountain,
faces glowing
desperate to describe
our encounter with Mystery,
but the words for which we reach elude us,
don't yet exist–
not in English,
not in any human tongue.

We try:
"It's painful but welcome purging," we say.
"It's corrosive but compassionate reframing…"

See? Even these words,
like autumn leaves,
simply float to the ground,
colorful, but never on fire,
not like our guts.

The only option,
once we've seen God,
is to be God.

Text and image © 2011 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.