What Would Love Say?

She Will Not Be Quiet: A (mostly unedited) daily writing practice

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2/14/25

What Would Love Say?

I sit here at my kitchen table 

with an old, old voice 

that insists I have nothing 

to say.


The truth is, I am tired—

tired of noise, tired of words,

tired of trying, tired of tired.

What I really want is to say 

what the trees say 


without a single word.


I want to say what the dog 

says as she looks at me, 

head tilted sideways, and wags

her whole body,


what the cat says 

as he purrs

and purrs.


Rather than filling this space with more,

I will be quiet, invite you 

to close your eyes and 


listen to the question

beneath all other questions,

to the poetry beneath 

the poem.

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