We often sat together In those times Which are sitting like old statues today. They give an impression as if Still animated and just about to speak But never do. The curves of words as they Came about on a piece of paper Which we held between our senses Told me who she was. Away from this world I was and still I felt as if I were capable of Grips more firm, Immersions more deeper, And touches more deeply felt. Sometimes words leapt out of That page of senses To tell us we rhymed better than they did And when we laughed they Said, let the water flow. Into the meanings of these words Lurked a part of me Which rejoiced at finding the Sheath of meaning and The play of reflections alike. The sounds I still remember still Reverberate in my ears. Her most potent symbols were her words. Once again they are emerging but Not embracing me. Today as I look at those statues and Try to discern their minds A touch of my hands they crave for. A word from their lips I wait for.
