A Sound

I walked today watching the snow glide horizontally across the ground. It could not be heard only seen as it pranced over the open plain. I pondered....without hearing and only being able to Sign to communicate the joy of the messages offered. Seen and shared alone.

Imagine....you cannot hear. Imagine..... you cannot speak. Now, if you stand still, all will take on a new meaning and touch you like never before. When a magnificent snow flake falls from high above and its beauty saturates your eyes during its graceful trip downward, it drifts quietly by requiring only that you be present. Looking into anothers eyes is very important to me, touching is important to me, holding hands is important to me, reading is important to me and writing is connection. Voices are vibrations felt moreso when I place my hand on your lips. Music a vibration with a undulating pulse. Grimacing faces and warm smiles speak while tears transfer volumes. Keyboards express feelings, love, hope, aspiration, desires and dreams........oh how I sense your passionate side through your sensual and erotic words... interwoven textures and fabrics locked deeply away. I only know your happiness if you hug me or write it down and I understand capitals mean you are yelling at me. Cyber allows me to walk beside you rather than behind you, speaking the same language.

There is no sadness nor anger in silence since there is no sense of loss. In fact, I sometimes think it is harder for you. What you share enters my pores and timidly approahes for my inner significance and meaning is different from yours. When I makelove sight, touch and knowledge are supreme, each rising and descending quietly with a velvety beckoning. If you lock your fingers around me as we sit together I feel wanted and cherished. If you are near I can tell by smell and when you are gone I can tell by memory. The notes you leave are my beeper while a bath means the same thing. Television means little to me both in sound and quality. It is my destiny to trust because some routes of access are not open to me - moreso, it is my nature. Be aware I am keenly aware of what I let you see. I know I stamp and bang my head when frustrated and run easily when overwhelmed. I also know you swear at me behind my back....I feel it through the air between us.

I struggle to hear your world and know that you wish to share so much of you with me, your face telling me so and your reactions painting a picture I decipher piece by piece. Equally and I suspect you know, there are many passions and feelings I wish to share with you, sometimes crying at night wondering if you sense them at the depths offered. When I am frightened it is very difficult for me because I truly depend upon you sensing my fear, placing your arms around me and fingers tight, rocking me and letting me feel your breathe. Only then do I know comfort, let down my guard and allow my softness to be cradled and warmed in your glow.... as I bow my head I must tell you I need help to let it out sometimes. Your picture is in the sachel of my mind together with the first wildflower you might place in my red locks. Ginger ale on my flightcase, light gauges across my Gibson I have wrote a song for you which I'll leave tomorrow.

I have never said this to you before.....but when you say you are my friend and that you will be there for me, not only in words but actions - do I hear your voice.

i am deaf