One day as I woke up
from a cicada's courting
unbearably sexier than a human's
I threw away the blanket of winter,
and shed the skin of spring.

- wu- shan-qian

Perhaps we do think in language, but even a thought begins as sensation. Whether this is good or bad or of no consequence I do not know.

I do know it has been a week of rain and harvest and sudden evening chill , which some say is not just a clue to the perennial queries, but a nuanced answer.

Nemerov speaks of how human development might have fared, had music been the express evolutionary mode of communication. Oh, those heady speculators.

They took everything from you --
the gowns, the wings,
even your name,
but I still believe in you,