autism,  dverse poets,  Love,  magic,  music,  Nara Malone,  neurodiversity,  Poetry,  silence

Silent Love Song

November 26, 2013 /

Santa Fe Trail 28 Mar 2010 by Brokentaco, on Flickr

I never was the queen of chat.
Monthly minutes used on my phone tend toward single digits.

I never minded your silence.
I think you’re quiet because you’re listening.
Listening intently,
with more than your ears.

I’ve seen you on a summer night,
shirtless,
rocking in time to crickets and katydids,
each beat of breath in rhythm,
as if  your cells breathe sound rather than air.

I’ve seen you transfixed by the swoosh of waves,
arms spread wide like a bird poised for take-off,
as if you can catch the vibrations in hollow-flute bones,
let the boom of surf against rock lift you like song into the clouds

I’ve seen you tune your guitar,
head tipped back, mouth open.
Like a cook sampling sauce
you know when it’s right,
can taste sharps and flats.

I’ve grown so tuned to you
we don’t need words.

I know,
with a touch,
a look,
some tremor in the air around you.
I know
what you need.

I didn’t know your secret.

Until
standing close but not touching,
enthralled by whispered symphony–
snowflakes touching down around us–
you shattered three years of silence.

Until
you stammered out my name
followed by
“luv you.”

Then a bluebird started to sing
in the heart of December.

Then the Summer Falls boomed to life in winter,
rocketing me skyward on an aquatic roar.

Then joy went viral,
humming from cell to cell,
until I was vibrating like strings
under the deft fingers of a slack-key master.

Now I get it.
Now I see, feel, touch, taste, hear
the magic inside silence.
Now I get
the magic of you.

~Nara Malone

This is my contribution to dVerse Poets Open Link Night. Stop by to see what others wrote or to join the fun yourself.

26 Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *