Just a few words I would whisper in your ear, words of a special kind. These are words that come to meaning only when whispered. They would die if I tried to pronounce them aloud.
But even if you frown at the idea, I would whisper all the same, for the tickling draft of my voice near your ear will mould you heart to receive these words of mine, short-lived like infant souls.
My eyes repeat whatever they see. The beauties, the names, the sounds of the seagulls, the dew hitting loudly the petal rim, the soul walking in solitude.
You would come near,
only to go again,
ever sweetly, far away.
Walking my path,
then drifting away.
Seeing you
and not seeing you again.
And I look at your waters vanishing, down the bridge, also nourished with potential, always becoming something else. And I keep on looking, listening, like an infinite man.
Your eyes say so much more, as they shine serenely in silence, never asking anything. But they take from the light their colour, their golden, reverberant charm, a lucid mind of their own. Your eyes do not ignore the know-how of gently kissing, nor the soft rumours, the spells, the sweet aromas. They have seen the big skies, walked the wide shores, felt the silent music, the dying bonfires, the shells. And the ocean, the ocean... So much they have looked into the deep blue, that now they absorbed the tides and can recite by heart the dances of the morning moon.
Yes, I will whisper just a few words to you, maybe the last for a while. Like a pianist onstage, first I will wait until everyone keeps a reverent silence. Then, I shall become the whisperer.
After that, the loud world may return louder than ever, if it so desires. I don't mind. I will rest by your side, quietly listening to your azure marine, the water on the stone, the ocean emptying drop by drop, void of words.
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