Bittersweet Joy

A tension in the sussura,
Murmurs, Conversations in the quiet
Too low to be heard too loud to be ignored
Proud but not confident

Sing to me of inhibition
Of choices not taken
Chances not chanced and hopes not hoped
Breathe me in your minutes

Borne of the differences,
Joy in the turning
Song threads
Piercing, hollow, hallowed heart

Sing to me of beginnings
Of songs ending
Of the quiet

Sing and in silence
Lost voice
Lost dream in the turning

Trembling hand reaches forth

What hope in silence
In deep quiet of the early hours
Hopes and truths
Whirl point to counterpoint
All come round
To too silent reverie
And salt trails betraying
A heart too full to break

Make peace in silence
When choice and time
Makes decision and endeavor
In collusion bound
Hand and hand
Round voices raised
In absolution

Worth more than pain
But ground down
By disappointments
In stillness
Still awaiting word

Sentinel, whose tears dry
And make flesh tight
Drying passage marking place
Accept and know
An oath, once given, cannot be rescinded

So, in acceptance, stand
Waiting
Quiet
Silent
In the deep heart of mourning

……….

They say that a creature of silence is the most beautiful.
Or is it, merely, that their silence shows a reflection that is pleasing.
That the speaker sees the silence as reflection
But silence is a deep well.
And those that are silent may instead be drowning in their own words.
And so are silent.

Or in obverse
drink your words like ambrosia
bereft of their own to speak truths
Instead your truths become theirs.
Or creep like a shadow following prey.
In silence, simply wait.

Silence consumes.
Self, speaker, or prey.
Silence
that darkling draw
like a fire
Burning away the mists.

Haunting Silence

There is a truth to be had in silence
In her silence, in mine
It’s easier to be silent
To let time slip by in the hope that it will solve things
One way or another
But time is a funny thing
It doesn’t yield solutions
It only brings opportunity and choices
I’ll always choose you
And so, I am not silent
And I say that I choose you
And I wait, with trepidation, for you to end silence
Fearing that you won’t
Fearing that you will

Sound gives

Cacophony gives voice to silence. Gives it wings to fill the empty spaces, it whirls and eddies, sliding into place unbidden, nightmare and night walking hand in hand, simple in the silences. My darling silence in the silver river of dreams. Woken to the rattle, rolling of bones. Dripping from tongue and fingertips pressed deep into flesh, holding on lest the whirl pull you away, my silence. Unbidden I am free, though I cling to you my tempest.  Sugar honeyed silence, taste and tasting. Illusions are the most tempting vices.