The mouth that speaks
the hand that writes
is explaining
And we are so very tired of the diatribe of armchair advice.
How do I become the mouth that listens
The ear that whispers
swallowing empty words as they arise
leaving space inside
for the tongue to be silent
the hand to rest
And the heart beat of this great land
to grace us with its presence
staring deeply into the moment
saying nothing
hearing everything
and delivering it to another with shining eyes
do you hear that too?
without writing
anything at all
just holding the threads of thrall
between us
I can’t
But you can too
And we will sit here us
with just these feelings
yes,
me too
This poem arose from an intuition I had for the sort of writing I wanted to piece together on my Substack account.
It is the sort of writing that asks “hey did you feel that too?” I hope so.
