Man of Few Words
I have asked many moons ago
The Ancient of Days for reprieve
In exchange for eloquence of words;
articulate of speech.
Instead, admonish this rogue
“ Let your words be few; slow to speak “
And this is what I received.
Two sets of eyes and ears
A pair of hands and feet.
So I became a man of few words.
And began painting your portrait
from clues I picked upon your page.
Tracing your thoughts like braille
beneath my fingertips.
Feeling your heart’s rhythm
like djembe drumbeat.
Seeing your tears spilling
like inkblot on canvass of blue.
Sensing a lonely poet
trapped within her hue.
Catching a scent of your angst
like blood dripping down a trail.
Showing me a life
that has been suddenly derailed.
I hear your faint sobs
behind these locked doors
Your silent screams echoing
within your innermost core.
So I hasten my footsteps,
I reach out with both hands
To pick you right up
and hold you in my arms.
You don’t have to tell me
for now I understand.
If all I had was mouth,
I would not have absorb.
If all I had was speech,
I would not have afford.
To notice, grasp and express
How precious and lovely you are
Its beyond words !
by NeiL ArandA 11-04-2014