SILENT

SILENT

. . . it is better to speak,

remembering

we were never meant to survive.

     ~Audre Lorde

 

And yet. . O yet, there are times,

this time, closed and tight together

or closed up tight alone

when it is better not to speak

to another, to ourselves,

of the distresses of mortality,

deprivation of company,

the small irritations undispelled.

 

Truth is speaking now—

her own voice 

pushing through cracks 

in the crumbling

towers and walls,

rising like magma

from the beaten ground,

spreading like water

and flame,

claiming her spaces

like returning birds.

 

For awhile now,

it is better

not to speak.

For awhile

to open

to her voice.

To be silent, 

if we would survive.

2 comments on “SILENT

  1. inlandsea7@gmail.com says:

    powerful poem this morning. thank you!

  2. Christine Lee Moore says:

    Lovely. I think, from time to time, about what we miss living in the noisy world of today. I think of how differently our minds must work compared to our great grandparents’. As a child grows, how much do they lose by having the noise all the time rather rather than creating the stories and ideas in the quiet time?

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