The Gulf

A gulf of silence separates us from each other. I stand at one side of the gulf, you at the other. I cannot see you or hear you, yet know that you are there. Often I call you by your childish name And pretend that the echo to my crying is your voice. How can we bridge the gulf? Never by speech or touch. Once I thought we might fill it quite up with tears. Now I want to shatter it with our laughter.