The Silence
By SunRae: copyright 2001
What THE SILENCE holds is beyond
any measure known to man.
Not in hours or minutes; It is
infinite, always there.
THE SILENCE is deafening.
IT hurts my ears.
Seeps through the pours of my skin.
IT pulses thru my blood in search
of the source of being, my soul.
IT has no end, SILENCE follows
me thru this empty house
like a shadow cast by afternoon sun.
IT is long, drawn out and
will not let go of me.
The SILENCE in the kitchen
is different from the one
in the living room.
For the kitchen SILENCE has
water running and a little song
for the birds IT watches out
the window with IT's coffee.
In the living room, IT holds
dance music and arms locked in
an embrace. IT holds two hands
reaching for the buttered popcorn.
The bathroom holds a strange SILENCE
OH! DAM! my mascara smeared
again. These scales can't possibly
be right. The bathroom SILENCE
speaks feminity with lavender and
holds many mysterious secrets.
The SILENCE in the bedroom is by
far the longest. IT holds voices
that have pierced the veil. Pillow talk
SILENCES of life and love that linger on.
Only in the bedroom is the SILENCE
broken thru, with night terrors of
loss and pain, that brings forth
a sobbing scream from these lips.
THE SILENCE, however remains louder
and has a grasp on all my days.
Without you my waking concious life
is consumed and controlled by
THE SILENCE of your absence.
THE SILENCE stalks me, fills
my days and nights. IT follows
me in the closet. Where I breath
in your scent in rememberance.
IT lingers on the silky, lacy, frilly
things in your drawer. Where my
fingers feel the softness of your
skin and long to trace it's features
one more time.
THE SILENCE is always there,
it never leaves. IT now resides
where you use to live. I can't
escape THE SILENCE.
2001
(The silence was written for a dear friend on the
second month anniversary of his wifes death from cancer)
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