Once I truly spoke with a man

Once I truly spoke
With a man who barely said
A word. In fact, there’s not a
Word he said that I remember.

The talking he did came from
Another place than his mouth.
The listening he did came
From elsewhere, not his ears.

His eyes looked at me
As if he saw me
In a way I
Did not know myself.

Perhaps, and that might make
Most of the sense, I have
Not ever even met that man.
In that case, I sure
would like to meet him.