A River of Words
A dark river lies between us.
The meandering type on a page forms into stepping stones of syllables enabling us to reach across the black abyss to connect, recognize deep calling unto deep, and hold one another close against the snakey darkness. Without words, we are flooded by the loneliness of silence moving swiftly up our shores to inundate all with the despair of chaos that has existed since before Word choreographed the touch of creation’s dance. Only a word holds nothingness at bay as a dam compels the flow of order which solitude would sweep away. Give me, then, such words as will quench my thirst for you. Let me swim in your language, languid in the liquid languor of love. Allow me to dive deep into the experiences out of which they are wrought until I am caught in the woven sedge of memory’s narrative vows about how to navigate your world. As semantic selkie, I will slip between mythic mystery of these watered words to merge with you in thought until such time as solitude calls us to our respective shores from which we longingly listen for the babble of living water rippling to reach once more. © 2013, Tess Lockhart. All rights reserved. |