Encounter: What is

I appear
To have reached
A point
Beyond which
Words cannot go

And yet words themselves
Are part of,
Well, part of everything,
Of all of it;

I keep asking questions,
Which I cannot answer
And yet intuitively feel
I know the answers,

I just cannot say
And yet, saying
Is not apart from
The answers I think I know.

On the one hand,
I think I should
Stop trying
To write about this

And on the other,
I know that doing so
Is part of it,
Nay, essential to it.

This feels like
Such a silly
Place to be
But

I know not
How to be
Anyplace else,
Or how to do anything else.