A Poem about a Special Nonverbal Child by Kim Funderburg

Caroline

The seed of some intention slips from my thought and on to my tongue,

 never to take root.

Now there takes place a dying bloom

Upon a darkened shelf.

For how can grunts and points light up the gloom

Between my dreams

And this place I call my “Self”?

With clenched fists

I pluck the flowers from my garden of wishes.

I try to catch their petals

As they float silently to the ground

While all around me, others tie lovely ribbons

Around the bouquets of my decaying notions

And offer them back to me

With love.

No utterance, not one, slides from my lips,

And not one word is caught between my fingertips.

This question dances across my face:

How can grunts and points

Fill up the space

Between my dreams

And this silent place

Called “me”?

Kim Funderburg, 2010

This poem was inspired by a special young lady we encountered last year.  This little girl ended up using a Dynavox EyeMax to begin to share the flowers of her thoughts. Thanks so much, Kim, for sharing your work with us!