z words

why does everything begin with 'a'...and end with 'z'?

His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold anything else.
It seems to him there are a thousand bars;
and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils lifts, quietly--.
An image enters in,
rushes down through the tensed, arrested muscles,
plunges into the heart and is gone.
---Rilke.

there are words you do not know, lands you will not see, lives that fleetingly pass by yours, like a dream you once had. the simplicity of it. the fierceness of the heart, the steadiness of the mind. you bring the whole weight of your experiences to bear on this question: is knowing everything?an arc of chances was opened to you: but this, and not another. thisness, not thatness. you heard and pictured your circular thoughts. fear struck: what if there is no beginning, no end? if this is your only voice, what you really sound like?

what do you say when there is nothing left to say? tokens, rituals, emblems, symbols. anything but the thing-in-itself. the slow depletion that shows up in your sad eyes, the brown freckles that are proliferating, rising to the surface of your skin. and yet, the unconquered, undimmed flame. there are words you will not utter, except in the darkest night, the longest moment, when the heart is defeated, like Z, z-words...

the narrowing down of conversation, the winnowing of truth from your face, the slack that has gradually unfolded, the deepening shadows. their inner structure revealed. like an animal, you think of nothing but the elemental: food..survival..breathing...water. many have died from the lack of water; none, absurdly, from the lack of love.