I knew something of conversation, or so I thought
until I listened to another.
Knew something of the talk, the sounds the chatter,
But to listen and to speak when moments call,
that is far greater.
Of conversations past, I no longer can remember,
Since the day I silent kept- and listened to another,
There opened up a life which had ‘til then
been merely shadow
At first the life it seemed another’s, but when I was caught
and by the mirror
The face had changed, it told me of another.
Since the day I silent kept- and listened to another.
by Jonathan Drane