The new language of love

I woke to burning words;
And all bird-song had ceased.
Then, somewhere inside, I felt stirrings
Of a need much deeper than decrease,
(That last sentence may sound odd)
But a kind of soft and loving
Goading to open my door
To cold and take some forty steps
Into my sullen woods—so I did.
 

And, to my astonishment,
It didn’t take long
To find my impenetrable heart
Lodged in the body
Of one quietly standing,
Watching, eye-embracing…

 

No need to say!
She was both calm and alert—
This certain deer I deemed
Right then and there, divine.
I turned, then slowly back to house,
and closed the door.

Inside, I opened
to a kind of warm peace,
Nourished by seemingly nothing,
But now accepting silence
As the new language of love
—and mine.

 
Kay Weeks, 2.5.13 and shared on 2.9.2013