Maybe we just need to say nothing for a while,
as the new day rolls out in bright strips.
I'm squinting into the sunrise,
not sure how long it's gonna take, the rewiring,
letting go of repeatedly rotating within my mind
the contents of a future I cannot entirely control.
If the music has been turned off and our voices
held tight in a kind of sacred gesture,
when we pass a mossy pond,
I will only be considering the glint of sparkle,
art of water plants, how it is there because rain has filled
again and again a hole of unknown depth
and surrounding life has filled it with an invisible world.
If we are silent for a time, giving nothing,
not even a whispering sigh,
then years of unnecessary apologies,
given long before you and I,
memories of wounds I've inflicted carelessly speaking,
a recognition that I have been holding up barriers,
all begin to collect, and with a breath, deeply gathered,
slowly released, a portion of these pities glide away.
And when we, after a time, begin to speak,
I will be present.