What We Heard

He sat next to me
and did not say a word.

He looked at me.
I looked at him.

And somehow—
we understood.

For thirty minutes
on that bus,
the silence between us
whispered,
“I hear you.”

And I did.

Between our shoulders,
a small, careful distance—
not quite apart,
not quite touching.

I heard the weight
of his long days,
the quiet ache
of endless toil.

I heard the need
for a warm bath,
a hearty meal,
a place
to rest.

And in that same silence,
he heard me too—
all the things
I did not know
how to say.

Two strangers,
held in that space,
speaking fluently
in something
neither of us
had to explain.

—

#TessieWrites #care #fluentInSilence #humanity #Life #LifeNLiving #Poetry #RealLife

A Silence That Speaks

Silence is the first word.
And the last.

It outlives every voice—
keeps what we refuse to give.

In the dark, toward the light—
through chaos, through order,
at the beginning,
at the end.

It moves through many
hearts and minds,
but only a few
are fluent.

We sit with it—
guarding our truths,
letting our eyes speak
what our mouths deny.

Sometimes we shout it—
yet only silence
hears us.

Silence is not a vacuum.
Not absence—
but something we shape
to shield ourselves.

I do not know what silence is.

But I know this:
it speaks
of us.

#IfYouCanTSayItWriteIt #Thoughts #fluentInSilence #language #Poetry #silence #WritfullyTessie