BLANK HORIZONS

There are words for what is known;
Identified feelings,
Recognized sensations,
Which seem too limited,
When in my excursions,
I touch upon the bounds of knowledge,
And encounter the blank horizons.

There are no words for what is unknown;
Unrecognized, unidentified,
The ever new vibrations,
Limitless inundations,
The unattainable appellations,
From which I attempt to delineate,
The results of my incursions.

Perhaps approximation may help;
In indicating the revelations.
Despite impending hallucinations,
Of thought and its many variations.
But neither time nor improvements,
Neither intellect nor calculations,
Can touch upon the far side of limitations.

But let come what may come;
Suffers though my expression,
Due to unwanted adulterations,
This I'll state with utmost seriousness:
To look at the unknown without fabrications,
At its various manifestations,
Is greater than all man-made meditations.