translate the metaphor

The problem is always
the same: to describe
my life in a manner
even I can comprehend.
Translation begins in
movement from this
space toward an other,
to cross a stile into
a newer field, not
so different from the one
we left moments before;
but far enough away
that our accents color
our vowels into strange
grey pronunciations.
Our words can only
carry so much freight when
laden with misunderstandings;
assumption insists on a free
exchange of extra meanings
no one could ever expect,
nor anticipate fully.
Somewhere in time’s
icy crevasses, my heart’s
words lose momentum
as they falter toward
my veiled intent.
I think I understand
what I meant to say,
at least enough, to
venture an attempt
to speak  again across
the voiceless divide
of language to you.
(July 26, 2013)

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