What words do to me every week?

Words evaporate like water in a dish,
leaving you with a sense of something meant,
but not the memory of what was said,
or how, or when.
Things stay as they are (call them facts)
even with the names you learn to give them;
poems (you tell yourself) are so many ways
of naming things you've seen
once and may no see again,
except for tricks of remembering;
for words forget themselves
and move among other things you cannot name,
and what you know by touch and tact
seems merely a vanishing thing.

- Words and Things, Vinay Dharwadker.

I especially loved this poem, for it maneuvered close to many things I love to think about, but it isn't all those things. That sense of familiarity is a curious thing, isn't it? And it is often the not fully understood things that draws us more than the things we completely understand. And becoming aware of these fine feelings can feel a bit like hitting a sweet tickle spot at times.