It wraps around me, the soft silence of a morning just waking, of a dawn just breaking, a hopeful silence, a silence of beginnings
But I, foolish creature that I am, break silence and say good morning to people who might be but aren’t quite mine. Not to you, my goddess, you have wandered away and I know not if you will wander back. No, to others who began so promising and are now this silence.
A silence of waiting, waiting for a reply that never comes, for the ease of conversation that began us. The echoing silence of a moment that cannot be recaptured and the tortuous efforts to spark anew.
The third silence is a thing of noise and speech, of nothing, for nothing. The meaningless babble of days passing without meaning, pointless how are you’s and empty Fine’s. A silence that fills the empty spaces and still rings hollow.
And a fourth silence, a silence just for me. A silence of the heart. A silence built of pain, off loss, of need, of dreams. A silence of tears and soundless screams. A deep abiding silence. Whose only cessation would be found on your doorstep.
A knock on your door to break the silence of dawn, holding you close to break the silence of waiting, a whispered “I love you,” to break the meaningless silence, never letting you go again to break the bleak silence of the heart.