We sit on the edge of conversation Hands clasped, feet shuffling anxiously Eyes darting across the room like the stars in the night sky You lean back with a sigh and I catch you.
Hands together, knees bent fingers touching skin Tracing outlines of mountains on the map you offer me You look up from my gaze and a calmness falls across your face The corner of our eyes don't wonder but meet Times entangled in the feast before us I raise a leg and your knee greets my feet.
Waters greet these feet, Waters that rage on and under us Washing over our bodies like the light that’s wrapped itself beside us Bodies become one in the heat of the den that we've made In the depts we've paid The depths we've obeyed The trust we've displayed
Down by the rivers where the whomping willow weeps, where the waters run ramped, and the wild things wonder wonder about life, wonder about death run through your mind son, be absent, be bold just don’t forget that the water man reaps reaps in what is sown, sold and told
whispered. whispered like silence on the edge of the wind the wind that howls through the corner of beauty there where it stays and sits for a while, as the man, he stands, waiting watching on duty. I look back to you, your face changed by the cut of a smile.
A smile. That smile, that warms my soul like summer breeze, Wraps me up and takes me in from the cold You don't even realise, you do it with such ease You do it now when we're young and you'll do it when we're old.
We sit, once again, as we used to, but more alone Hands together, fingers crossed, in utter isolation It’s such a wild thing, wild life that we’ve known And none of it is ripe for an explanation.
Feet dancing on the edge of contemplation This information that we use for the source of our meditation Imagination sparks conversation but also speculation So, what are we to do when there’s no confirmation? A shout shuddering in the darkness of creation Thinking of the combination, representation and motivation for these words when all I ever wanted was a simple conversation.