(44 B)

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.

 

We stand on the shore together.

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