Like an exultant roar from the pages of a book, or a soothing balm from an online voice. Seen and felt rather than heard, but every bit as heartening.
Like the babbling of strangers, or noisy chatter from the TV. Audible yet detached. Immaterial, yet the comfort is no less real.
Conveyed through action, just as profound. A subtle nod of the head as if to say you are familiar and worthy of acknowledgment. A warm embrace in moments of self-doubt, saying you are a friend and no one, at this singular instant, is worth more.
I do not underestimate the power of words. On the contrary, I revel in it. In a rare but welcome state of clarity and virtue, I wield it. For the most part, however, I am a mere spectator. At best, a dilettante.
In the silence--- of a blank page, of solitude, of loneliness--- I crave it.
Speak to me.
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