Words spoken, rolling off tongue to waiting ears,
Words written, quill nib to parchment paper,
Words typed, fingertips dancing on keyboard keys.
Homer not the first orator, performer,
Vibrant voice to expectant assembly,
Tales foretold again, again and again.
Generation upon next, generation,
Continued to tell and (possibly) expand,
The original tales foretold.
Every possible medium, we now have,
To record, reread and preserve,
The meaning we offer to be taken.
Meanings not explained or so we’re told,
Meanings taken as written, as read,
Meanings their own to each reader.
I see this, this way, not that,
But you see that, that way, not this,
The difference the beauty of writing, of reading, of knowledge.
Beauty of writing, not explained,
Beauty of reading, not explained,
Beauty of knowledge, not explained.
The beauty ! The Beauty !
Of words, not explained.