It’s hidden behind the careful lines–
That one word that’s never written here.
It’s laced between the thoughts that curl like vines,
That one mysterious word we often hear.
It’s the core of it all–
That one word we’ve all written of.
It’s the cause, the means, the end, of each rise and fall,
That one elusive word we suffer for.
It’s what makes us move (or stop)–
That one word we wake up for,
It’s what makes us soar (or drop),
That one word we hope is waiting behind each door.
It’s what makes the world stare, or leap, or weep–
That one word that makes all things make sense.
It’s what we look for up above or down deep,
That one coveted word felt through its absence.