The Quiet Unspeak

The Quiet Unspeak

(“Do not let the love of money control your life. Be satisfied with what you have. God himself has said, ‘I will never be away from you. I will never leave you alone.'” Hebrews 13:5)

Content upon the rocky banks that overlook
the same river that ran here yesterday; my eyes
still see the island obstructing the view of
Oregon and the cargo ships slowly up-channel
beyond it. It has misted since early morning,
even during the short peeks the sun makes
tricking my expectations of an uncommon dry day.

Within the next hour, though, same place, same
slippery rocks, green island and river view;
I fetch undue anxiety from the same air I breathed
so serenely before. Quiet now is not the same
as quiet then.

I am a kettle just before the boil; a miniature
weather warning, the siren ready to blow.
The quiet unspeak is the sleepy gravity
that is on the verge of blowing the roof off
the 50 year shingles 49-years-old.

If not for the promise, if not for provision,
if not for my Father’s love and precision
that bids me quiet like the morning and
take the pot off the boil. He will, I know,
do what all good Father’s do and calm me
long, teach me longer the relaxation I should know:

The river, the slit sky, the treed island and rocky banks
are never caught off guard by my visits; hustling to
adjust the river’s flow back east to west. And so,
Father of it all, my hope below is quiet in respite
before dawn or under a covered sun.