There are no Words

How to I put to paper, how do I find the words for those moments in time, for which there are no words? Those moments of bliss so pure it shines; those moments so painful even tears refuse to flow, how do I get the words to? The epic battle; the death of a lover, dear friend, or blood; the birth of the one you know you will give your life for; these moments that even life cannot seem to find the perfect performance for, how do I tell my characters how to react?

I liken writers to gods for the ability to make a moment reality. Maybe that is the reason why we as humans cannot comprehend these moments, because even gods have trouble. This goes beyond what these highest quality computers of the human mind. These are the defining moments of what and who we are and yet, I fumble for proper production and description.

Is the lighting correct? Did I make note of the subtle tilt of brow and squeeze of fingertips in hand? Does the scent of the moment really express the emotion elicited by it? This is so easy when it is so unimportant. Does any description really matter?

Does anyone really care that the sun was a pink disc in the deepening sky as the last light of life left the pale grey eyes of the soldier dying in the arms of his brother in arms? In the same moment, that pink disc could be peering over the embracing of two hearts that traveled through space and time, and trials and finally close their eyes and press lips and bodies so that no space is allowed between them ever again. That pink disc and deep purple sky means something completely different beyond the window of a hospital room. A first time father kisses the forehead of his wife who looks to him the most beautiful she ever has, even with her hair and skin still glistening from the stress of bringing their child – a perfect pink bundle of their love – into the world and cradled in her arms.

What if the things I describe no matter how varied, are not at all the things the character in the moment even took notice? In moments so life changing, emotion casts a curtain around the most important and casts all else outside, into darkness. The fading grey eyes of the soldier or the final grip of dying hand. The touch of lips and brush of eyelashes between the lovers as they kiss; the bright eyes of a new soul and the smoothness of his wife’s hair; and still, these are description from only one side and only on the surface of the character’s experience.

Should I mention the favorite song the characters bonded through? If it is a song the reader recognizes will the music do the work that the words could not? Am I cheating if I do and it does? I listen to soundtracks for my writing all the time. It does not mean the reader will feel what I felt when I wrote the words. In dance, I try to create a sequence of body movements that tell the observer the story of the music. When I teach these movements to others, I watch as they struggle to comprehend why this goes together. They do not hear the same story I did. Why should I think, as a writer, it would be any different. Describing the twist, drop, turn of a dancer’s hip to the rhythm of a drum only I can hear.

How does a weaver of words describe the moments in the tapestry of life when there is not a thread of understanding? Where are the words for moments that leave us speechless?

Love, it is a word

We cannot describe in words

And, still writers try.

Death, it is a phase

Human souls cannot escape

Nor full understand.

War, it is a choice

Instinct causes us to make

Through all it takes,

Birth, of a new life

First sobbing breaths of a soul

Take the breath away.

It is a human

Condition that gods cannot

Ever understand.