The Poet
The ship rested at the end of the dock, the sunlight sparkling in a million pieces off the tiny waves that trembled against the shore. The poet could see the captain waiting patiently for the crowd of villagers to end their countless questions. He was happy to share his final words with them, but he could not help but feel the last grains of sand slipping through the hourglass.
“Speak to us of words,” an old farmer asked him. The others fell silent, waiting to hear the poet’s response.
He paused to reflect upon that question, allowing the silence to move between them like a breeze carrying the scent of lavender. As his eyes touched upon each of theirs, the silence grew into a crescendo of breath and hearts beating until it felt as if they would all faint from the weight of it. It was only then that he spoke.
“Words are the moment of life’s awareness, when awareness becomes life itself. Words are the expression of all the potency of our silent feelings, our unuttered desires. We speak when our thoughts become too much to bear, and by their birth take breath of their own and sing aloud to the edges of the world. We think, we feel, and, once we have thought and felt enough, it is then that our words are revealed.
“Our words are our secrets made known, our will defined; our speech is the wishes given to others, our prayers sung to the heavens so that the Divine may hear them. We speak to define our paths across the world, to leave our countenances engraved upon eternity that we may be remembered.
“Our labors taken by sweat and pain are the words of our lives, leaving their imprint in the world around us. Our children are our feelings made flesh, to stand and give birth to their own feelings, in time.
“When your sibling or spouse or stranger speaks their words to you, give them the gift of your hearing. Let their words be an offering and let your attention be their reward. They need not be your words, echoed through their lips; nor should they expect such a mirror be found within your heart and mind, but if their words are a light to your own shadows let this be a blessing to you both. Words are gifts; they are not a commodity with a price that is due.
“Above all, let yourselves receive the blessing of silence when you are among those you love. Let the stillness be a comfort, that no words need be said. Let a smile, an embrace, a loving kiss be all the words needed in the moments between words. When you may, allow silence to be the voice shared in love and acceptance.”
With that, he fell silent himself, seeing the tears rising in his own eyes mirrored in the eyes of his people. They all observed that long moment between them, and between them they only felt the still comfort of their love.
The boat would wait, a little longer.
(gratitude and apologies to Kahlil Gibran for the inspiration)