Once there was a land
where everything’s name depended
on whatever sound it made.
“Glipglops” fell from dark gray clouds
amidst the flashing “booms.”
And a “rrrrm” that sat in your lap licking it’s paw
was a completely different kind of cat
than the “maew” that wanted a fish dinner.
It would be difficult for us to hear
the difference between the “shoosh” of waves upon a beach
and the “sheosh” of trees on windy fields,
but the people of that land had no troubles whatsoever.
They had no name for their land
since their land made no noises different from any other land.
They also had no name for themselves as a whole
because they all made different sounds
depending n their individual names.
In fact the most important event of their lives
centered around the naming ceremony.
The only thing Steve would ever say was “steve, steve, steve.”
The only thing Jill would say was “jill, jill, jill.”
Books were naturally unheard of.
It just would have been the author’s name written several times.
Words for intangible things
that did not make a sound
like good, evil or love
were likewise unused.
But they were still able
to convey meaning effectively
in how they said their names.
When Steve said “steve”
and Jill said “jill”
and both their “lubdubs”
quickened ever so much,
they knew love as well as any of us.