Grace and Peace to you.
When words have succeeded in my hands,
performed splendidly in their traces,
and have become my world,
the window glass crowded with them,
I set them all out by the curb,
and walk away,
naked of all speaking,
beggared of understanding,
into a meadow of silence,
the air clear, the grass in tufts,
where even You
have no words for this
but close your eyes
and hold me.
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes