BY SR. JANET RECTENWALD, SFCC
I wait …
to receive from you
words that identify
who you are,
your history, where you came from,
what you long for.
Words come …
broken words, unintelligible words,
like waves in the ocean
rolling in,
crashing on my listening ears.
Words drift away …
as quickly as they came
lost in a vast sea
of uncharted memories.
I hold your hand …
and wait
for another tidal wave of words
to connect me to your world.
As a beachcomber …
gently cradles a fragile shell,
I cradle you in my arms
giving the assurance
even without words
we are connected.