yesterday afternoon, my husband and i went outside and sat on our back porch. not an event, usually. except, this time, it was. we chatted, like we always do, while sipping on red wine. we exchanged stories: beginnings. and middles. and ends.
we talked. we talked. with eloquence. but then. as if by design. as if by agreement. a silence fell. a quiet. a calm. and in the entire universe, there was nothing but the two of us. sitting beside one another in the gently droning stillness. he. and she. you. and i. in wordless communion.
sometimes, eloquence is silence.
