what is it we cannot waken words to say?
where is the fathoming in syllables
that slip too lightly from undone tongues?
is silence then so much lighter
that we may fly the lines
drawn between our two skies
meet beneath the gaze of crows
and under the widening eye of the moon
embrace with a vehemence
no verb would ever convey?
if it is so, then shush, my love,
and enjoy of hush of sentences asleep
steeping deep in dreams unspoken
but take this “I” as dumb token
of implicit affection

© Sarah Whiteley


moved unmoving

let me be silent
as the stones
that mark the line
between earth
and air
and sea
let me rest
with purpose
cool intent
edges smoothed
by time
and tide
and there
let me watchful wait
for two shores
that never meet
cold kissed
by rain
be still
be small
be awake
to all
moved unmoving
let the waves
curl and call
and the air
moisten and fall
be as stones
and feel it all

© Sarah Whiteley