Was mind and brain, as one, the only way?
Each without the other incomplete?
No spirit without flesh; fire without heat?
When matter speaks, its words enliven clay?

 

All thought is language; language, sound of breath
of spit and tongue, of mouth and clicking teeth.
These are the steel of truth drawn from its sheath
conserved, amended, shared; usurping death.

 

Thus single spirit-flesh - one, verily!
It is the necessary paradox.
Language errs; places each in separate box.
Each is other, complimentarily.

 

Not all relations are attached by “and”;
some are side by side, almost hand in hand.