Speechless

He is the First Person
who has ever asked Me
to talk—
More.
Have I changed? left
my Garrulous Self behind
in the lonely days
where too much talking only made louder
the Silence
of echoing Manque?
or is it a sincere desire
to see, to Sea, to dive deep
down into the depths of where I am
how I think
what I feel
whither I would go and whether
that should coincide
in time
in space
in unforeseeable inerasable
Opportunity
with another Future?

I hesitate,
want to hear more, listen
to understand
to question
to appreciate
this Face which looks
so kindly, so surely at my own
anticipating a Story, any! Mine, probably

anxiety flutters

it’s not that easy
when one Person finally wants to
hear
to be Here
in my thoughts
(oh ear
oh dear
do I hear what I hear?
do I fear that I drear?
do I near one so dear?)

Possibility opens a wicked gate
of amiable dreams and terrible seems
to be cruel in the worst winter way
and to hold so much sway
o’er a Heart which delays
so afraid
to dismay

yet I while and He’ll wait
(so I hope, so I pray)
in the end God will say
how it went, if it stays
and in all, either case—
I am grateful.

He said, I think I have been talking too much. You should talk some more.
He waits, gentle, open, obliging.
I am
( ).

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3 thoughts on “Speechless

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