Glossolalia

Glossolalia

1920 1279 Daniel Baker

It started with a murmur,​
a low hum blown by coastal winds.​
The insistence of waves was static​
grown grey in the dusk.​
Zumbadorcito and Bien-te-veo​
approach, straining to hear.​
Apophanies are gained and lost.​

It grew in volume:​
explicit asemic annunciation.​
The wind was ecstatic,​
throwing sand and salt onto every surface.​
Unreliable narrators stood, hands clasped,​
throwing sounds into the sky.​

I want to know the difference​
between null and undefined.​
Variables distinct and obscured,​
a blur of symbols.​

“Let us go down and confound their language,​
that they may not understand one another’s speech.”​
Now: keening. A broken sound played​
through broken lips.​
Lips that they must use in prayer,​
lest faith turn to despair.​
10,000 words without interpretation,​
and always the wind rushing.​
A sigil sent into the darkness​
signifying unspeakable impulses.​

The satisfaction comes from unknowing.​
Messages sprout wings,​
wheel across the archipelago,​
pierce the stillness of the mists,​
and mount the slopes of El Yunque.

 

Daniel Baker

Dan Baker was born in the 70s in rural Wisconsin but now he writes, does digital marketing and lives with his family in Milwaukee.

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4 Comments
  • Catherine Lawton April 28, 2017 at 3:33 pm

    These are thought-provoking words:
    “I want to know the difference​
    between null and undefined.​”

    and a beautiful description of Mystery.
    and for me–always wanting to understand, to know–comes your conclusion:
    “The satisfaction comes from unknowing.​”

    Thank you!

  • What a gorgeous poem and spirit!

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