Craving Connection
The nameless old man walked slowly down the street.
Purposefully he placed each foot
Like a gentle kiss on the Earth beneath him.
Walking towards her
A beacon, on the sun-drenched stoop.
Her golden, red hair and head in prayer,
Quietly he approached her.
Not to break either meditative concentrations
But with thought, he asked,
“Why are you so sad, little girl?”
The sleepwalking sweetheart only raised her head.
Like a buttercup humbly accepting the first amber glow of day.
Her arm extended like a morning stretch
Moving through water,
Breath low in her belly.
She simply touched his arm in connected relief.
Without breaking any code of silence,
He heard her unspoken words.
His body a bristlecone pine,
A living witness to more than a million sunrises and sunsets.
The ground became a symphony of economy
And her, the conductor.
Stillness lowered the gravity of the air around them.
And just for that moment,
The only two people in existence
Were the nameless old man and that sad little girl.
Purpose and Prose 