Richard Schiffman: "Before Language"

Up from the fountain

the babble of children,

drenched with surprise. Alive!

The rain of their syllables

does not strain to speech,

their glottal whoops and yells

never jell to full-fledged

words or phrases.

Parents hover bird-like

by their brood. Parents fan

and fan their little flames.

And I, alone, the childless one,

sit purposeless, yet not in vain.

Before language was, the rain.

Children’s voices pouring

from the sky. I close my eyes

and let it wash my dust.

"Before Language" by Richard Schiffman. Published in Sunstone Magazine (December 2012). Presented here by poet submission. © Richard Schiffman.

Art credit: "Silhouette Of A Splashing Child Playing In A Fountain of Water, Shreveport, Louisiana," photograph by Brian Buckner.