Often I feel that there is some invisible thread that binds some people who ride motorcycles. It’s not the motorcycle itself though, it is something just beyond it. Perhaps the motorcycle is simply a signal, a bell that rings in your mind. The peal says you may be looking at a person who understands some intrinsic part of you which you are unable to define with words.
When you’re standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon looking over its expanse, could any clumsy group of words you cobble together adequately describe what you’re feeling? Maybe they’ll come close. After all, we do the best we can to give our words meaning. We are often trapped by our inability to sufficiently string them together. When you are profoundly moved by something you’ve borne witness to, sometimes words just aren’t enough.
Just think of the understanding you get from hearing the moan of a lover, the gravity of words left unsaid, the conclusions you draw from looking at the face of another. A conversation takes place where no words are spoken but you just know something.
Some things must be seen or heard to feel them at the depth of their true measure. Written words, as beautiful as they are, have a boundary.