New sights, new smells, but sounds?
No sound. Vacuum sealed shut, inside a tropical greenhouse
where the air is the only language I hear. Its voice is…hot.

Hot syllables, hot paragraphs, hot articulation,
hot communication. This language very new,
what stories it must have and want to tell. Who will listen?

Listen I will, you have my attention,
I hear and understand your tone. I won’t interrupt your thoughts
and will let you explain your sizzled feelings. You breeze, I breathe.

Breath of humidity and your voice cracks.
Sorrow I hear combined with relief and peace. You speak so slowly,
softly and calmly. What a beautiful pace you set with words.

Words I can touch, taste and see. Like rays of colour
shining into my bloodstream, filling my cells with rainbow brights
and jet stream energy. This conversation I will not forget.

Forget the last time your temperature of tone went off kilter.
Forget the way you feel ashamed for losing your composure.
Forget the time your thunderstorm halted my journey home from the waves.

Waves, the way I hear you the loudest.
How you drive your words into my mind straight up from my soles,
my sandy steps, I sink, and you fill me up the more you say.

Say more to me, it’s a story I have never heard.
No need to apologize for waiting for so long. Our timing is right, and
I’ll listen until you’re completely finished and you feel free.

Free to be who you are in your heated, tranquil and soundless glory.
Just because you’re quiet, just because you keep things in,
does not mean there’s less to tell or you are less, there’s so much to glean.

Glean I do from you. You held a fire then with a sword put it out,
as instructed to. Sweet air there is nothing to fear. I understand your frustration
but I see you are now clean. The fire is out, the ashes cleansed, an established purity.

Purity in your mind for finding these words to speak to me in such delicate nature.
I’m listening carefully and I reiterate your messages so you know that I know,
this exchange is perceived with perfection.

Perfection you are not. Perfection you cannot be. Perfection is not me,
perfection I never want to see. Raw and honest and true is how you speak,
a comfort it is for you to tell me things you have held in and never spoke.

Spoke to like I’ve been listening for a decade. You have been waiting a long time.
I hear the splashes of laughter underneath each sentence;
There is trust, fairness and acceptance.

Acceptance, belief and surrender is all that there is. A harmony in
energetic language understood only by those who see. See with their nose, their heart, their fingers and their feet. See using their gifts, mouth wide open hungry for release.

Release it all and let it go. You no longer have to search for someone to listen.
I am here and have given you permission. Tell me everything, you are safe with me,
I hold that promise.

I promise.