We travel across
the years, settle
on one or a few
for a while –
resting, waiting.
The questions change,
never the destination.
Deep in the silence
between one and
another, there’s a
faint sound – familiar,
comforting.
Humming its tune,
we begin to remember
the words, but these
vanish as soon as
they arrive.
What remains is that
silence “in between” –
the original sound –
so deep one can get
lost but for that
bright hope
when the whole
world makes sense,
when love is the
only word worth
uttering, the only
step worth taking.
For Celestia
October 31, 2011