“How do you know what he wants?”
When they meet you they assume
That you cannot speak
Because you lack words.
But in your eyes there are words
And worlds and depths of knowing,
There is tone and feeling and intention
In a look, or eyes avoidance
You look away because that speaking
And silent soul seeing
Feels too much, too raw, too real.
Behind those eyes sits understanding,
The listening space offered patiently
But always answering with those eyes.
In those eyes are words, and worlds
But we are so fast and frivolous,
Always talking but never saying anything
That we forget to listen.
How do I know what he wants?
I sit in the space beyond words
Meaning lives in the space between
I listen with my soul.
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