Silence is Fuller

Silence is Fuller

(“Be silent, all mankind, before the Lord, for he has come to earth from heaven, from his holy home.” Zechariah 2:13)

Silence is fuller than cascades of verbs
that travel from outside our ears into tangled
shortcuts with words.

Silence is deeper than cenotes unfound
where history is buried beneath the muffled

rituals of sound.

Nouns are less concrete than the quiet that
sees
only the bluebird that conversation makes invisible.

I do not wait well in the stillness, nor walk when instruction is unclear.
The buzz in the background; the blues, a movie, a distant campfire circle,

all arc back to short-circuit the wheel of sentences that repeat
like a coffee grinder churning my mind in a closed-loop of fantasy.

Silence is denser than the Dickens
or other deep descriptions of time and rooms,
of seasons and revolutions. Silence is the black hole
that holds nothing and

in which everything exists.

Words have been my language since I heard my name
for the first time, since Mama or Dadda and No and Me.

To believe God speaks with nothing, and to find eternity

in that void,
is to learn, not another dialect or use for words I still need
to find.

It is a new Kingdom of being; of seeing without tongue or ear.
The more I beg Him to speak, the more precious His silence has become.