Before Anything Was Said

By Al Konda

 

The room was quiet, holding what it could,

The air unchanged, yet gently shared between,

Two chairs that faced each other as they should,

With nothing asked to fill what there was to be seen.

 

You sat across, not turning toward or from,

Your hands at rest where light could find them clear;

No motion rose that asked us to become,

No word was formed that needed to be heard.

 

The light remained, yet nothing turned or pressed,

No shift arose to mark a change in place;

The room held steady in its quiet rest,

And kept us both within a single space.

 

No edge appeared to mark where we began,

Nor reason found to name what simply was.

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When nothing needed to become more

There are moments that do not ask to be understood.

Not because they are unclear.

Not because something is hidden.

But because nothing is missing.

You sit across from someone.

No word is needed.

No movement asks to be followed.

The space between you does not call for anything to fill it.

It simply holds.

There is no effort to define what is there.

No need to name it.

No edge where one ends and the other begins.

And in that quiet, something rare becomes possible:

Not connection as something made.

But presence as something already complete.

It does not build.

It does not declare itself.

It remains.

And in remaining, it asks for nothing more.

🎬 Watch it on YouTube: https://youtu.be/7T_cl-DRoI8

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© Al Konda · The Poetry Elite