We find ourselves entering
a corridor of language,
she from the eastern door, and I
from the west. We take steps,
toward each other, tentative
at first, saying our greetings,
each in our respective language,
neither understanding much
at all of the other, except our
nervous smiles, and as we come
closer, she speaks some words
picked up from me, and I from her,
communication growing, until
we meet in the middle, each
fluent in the mutual language
of love, transcending all vocabulary.
Lanning Lee 