Sonnet On Philosophy.Sonnet 11

11. The Limits of the Word (Linguistic Philosophy / Wittgenstein)We build a cage of grammar, tense, and noun,To capture reality inside a net.We pin the soaring, wild ideas down,In dictionaries where the ink is set.We play our language games from day to day,Assuming that the labels match the thing;Forgetting that the words we speak and say,Are only shadows that the objects fling.The deepest truths refuse to fit the tongue,And slip between the spaces of our speech.The grandest songs remain forever unsung,Beyond the boundary of what words can reach.Where logic fails to map the dark profound,We must pass over into silent ground.