If you did not have language and the words language is made of, what would you think in? If you did not have language, beloveds, as much as language is loved and valued, might you not live fully in the concept called now? Wouldn’t you? What do you think in but words? Yet, of course, there is a dimension of thought before and beyond words. Without language, there would be no names for the pictures you see before your eyes. The pictures would be known and pointed to and yet not remarked on with words.
Man everywhere is a creature who speaks. We are by no means going to revoke language even if it were possible. First came pointing, and then names for everything pointed to. I suppose We could call language shorthand and longhand at the same time. What a miracle language is!
There is something about the tongue and lips and breath and heart that want to make sounds, and there is something about the human ear and heart that want to hear sounds. Add the miracle that language can also be written.
And, so, language added itself to pointing, and sound blessed the ear, and the heart liked it. And, then, there is something about the hand, the hand with the opposable thumbs that wants the sounds to go through its fingers. Hearts everywhere also want to feel the touch of language as much as the ear and heart want to hear language flowing.
Does this not seem to you that waves of evolution blessed all on Earth, and the Earth is happy to hear sounds and feel them written on her sand? From water to land, and from sea to sea and back again, language is heard, and everything seems to be another wave that flows one after the other? And yet the water everywhere is called Ocean or lake or river or tap water. The basic Earth and its seas also yearned for names and to hear themselves called in every dreamed-up language that seemed to be meant to be.
Written with a stick in sand, or a pencil in hand, or with computer keys, written language is a sense of touch. Language in one form or another embraces all the senses. Can you not taste the words you speak and hear and touch them? Can you not see beyond the words? Doesn’t each poem have its own self?
The physical senses are by-ways to the heart. What is sweeter than a loved one’s voice and touch and sight? One loved one is sweet like a rose and another sweet like lilac. What is an unseen aura but a combination of all the senses experienced in a vaster sense yet embraced through all the known senses as well as the mind and heart?
Even though language is bound, language is your way out. Even though language means many things, it is your route to understanding more. There is life before words and beyond words, and language will help to take you there. Understanding is sweet. Playing with words is like playing with the notes of music, and so great music of language is also played. Words feel good on the tongue, and words make music, and language performs greatly.
Language goes fast and slow and in between. Language can be a race or staying still or fast and slow and still. Language is ever new by virtue of the consciousness who speaks it or hears it or reads it. Language is a leap of consciousness.
Language does come from the Silence of the Depths of the Oceanwide of Vastness and Oneness and all these inexpressible Truths that words try to say.