In fact, each of us is walking down
a path made of language,
or brick-words, if you like that kind of
Gary Snyder thing. One’s world
is, in fact, the limits of one’s language.
We could, if you please, call this
one’s cosmovision, or, more plainly,
one’s view. The fact is that one’s view
is composed, alas and abstractly,
of the words which one would use
to describe one’s view. As we walk along
the path, in fact, our words change,
for example, Osiris might become
Jupiter, not that, but something like that.
In other words, there is no such thing
as not worshipping, or so says
David Foster Wallace in a book.
I am not going to beat this metaphorical
horse to its metaphorical death,
but remember that the path is tangled,
and that the best thing to do,
in fact, would be to learn a new
word each day, not because the new
would trump the former,
but because the new improves, increases,
or one might say, moves along
one’s self-awareness
of this oft referred to process.
Witness all, name nothing—
that would be ideal, but that
would be a task for
a mythical being, or a mystical being,
that is to say in other words,
for you and me, one-eyed,
flying, and, in fact, death-defying.
