Lost In Translation For Now

I attempt to translate Soft visions of eternity: Gleaned from meditation. But like a paltry part-time painter I can only transcribe in vain Mere shadows on reams of paper. For the slippery yet profound truths Emanating from the translucent light of being Are seemingly beyond the scope Of mortal earthbound expression. Perhaps I should take heed Of wise Mr Wittgenstein; Who once pronounced that we should Remain silent about all the things We cannot speak about. I know that frail words are Imprecise tools: Conveying The bare bones of symbols & signs. But I simply cannot rest Until I have mastered My art; so that I can convey In my own idiosyncratic way Life's flowing textures of meaning Like spring flowers in full bloom.