We often sat together
In those times
Which are sitting like old statues today.
They give an impression as if
Still animated and just about to speak
But never do.
The curves of words as they
Came about on a piece of paper
Which we held between our senses
Told me who she was.
Away from this world I was and still
I felt as if I were capable of
Grips more firm,
Immersions more deeper,
And touches more deeply felt.
Sometimes words leapt out of
That page of senses
To tell us we rhymed better than they did
And when we laughed they
Said, let the water flow.
Into the meanings of these words
Lurked a part of me
Which rejoiced at finding the
Sheath of meaning and
The play of reflections alike.
The sounds I still remember still
Reverberate in my ears.
Her most potent symbols were her words.
Once again they are emerging but
Not embracing me.
Today as I look at those statues and
Try to discern their minds
A touch of my hands they crave for.
A word from their lips I wait for.