The Word

The word is the symbol,
imperfectly deciphered
by the intellect.
Its aptness and its force,
even its beauty, is
as much a matter of
association as exegesis.
Communication honed
on evolution's wheel
may ultimately make
the spoken word redundant.
I shiver for your cold,
you weep for my sorrow,
each bleeds for the other's wound,
and language has become
a rapport of sentient silence.