Feel what rhymes between us without words:
a texture, a smell, a movement that acts,
infuses more than show and tell. Body language
the most basic, the most primal, the most real.
This is necessity. We must be able to go on
when everyone, everything, when the world, is
simply deaf and mute. Communication exists
beyond print, beyond the repetitive sounds of
ideas, beyond rhetorical music, beyond the audio
of complexly-crass civilized thought. We have
language and verbal expression to make us feel better,
feel like we are making our mark on time, the small
seconds left of it, the treacherous and monotonous
abundance of it; but when all is over one last
thing, and it only, should flash in our brains:
a smile, the expressive smile of life lived.
Nathan Dey Johnston lives in Kokomo, Indiana. He has contributed poems to From the Well House and Smile, Hon, You’re in Baltimore!
