To be one day performed in sign language*

Perhaps
You could call it
Music—
A gentle guitar
Solo,
Or even a piercing
Voice clear
And high.

Silence is a song.

I know
And you do too.

Well,
Perhaps I don't
As much as you would.

There is a cadence
To the way
Our pens
Twist and turn
Like my grandfather's
Heyday.

There is an art
To the way
Your fingers
Seem to curve
At the slightest
Twitch
Of your lips.

Your body's language
Is like an evergreen
Dance—
Eyes, hands, feet wide
Open to the
Rhythms of the world.

And what a stunning
Beat it drums.