To be listened to when I am the listener always
To be listened to, reflectively
With the listener’s head nodding up and down, tilted to one side like mine
when I work to reach for others’ words to frame them in coherence and give them life.
“…but you, too, only listen for gain,” he said, my 18 year old son,
wise beyond his age,
flippant as only the very young can be, careless and unwittingly wounding…
“You only listen because they pay you to.”
Yes, that’s true, I know, but in my job as a paid listener,
I have reached beyond duty and have done more,
listened harder,
for longer,
kept quiet counsel,
and bore witness to the myriad nuances of language, the unspoken,
maybe a gesture, a look,
a silent pause, a moody glare, a tear welling in the corner of an eye, sadness in a smile…which no insurance contract will value.
I listen with my whole heart and soul,
to those who pay, and those who cannot, and all of those whom I feel invested in.
And therefore…the yearning, to be heard
Like I do…
Like I do,
like I do!
To have, too, what I do.
I yearn to be listened to.
