I’ve heard it said that “words can only point to a feeling…”

can we ever really hear each other?

the language of stones

if I slip a word

beneath your door

could you read it?

stones

upon the shore, count

the skips one, two, three – more

then silence.

we hurtle

past each other

such a brief intersection

yet two lives may still

make a plane

walk with me

this weathered shore

and we might learn again

this language of stones.

one, two, three – more

then silence, dark waters,

winds and waves,

this hard, hard  knowing

before words.

© 2015 jafink/oldbones.newsnow.com