Silence Sits Like a Scornful Goddess

 

Silence Sits Like a Scornful Goddess

(“Don’t work for the food that perishes but for the food that lasts for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.” John 6:27a)

Silence sits like a scornful goddess
laughing at the loneliness that invades
uneven thoughts.
When the center is wound tight like
a yoyo string, others watch
as the moods rise and fall
at the whim of the hand that controls
its flight.

Music fills the cavities, smooths
the breaks,
but never makes up for the lack
of conversation.

Silence mocks the inner craving
for more than a day without pain.
Rings on the fingers are reminders,
amulets around the neck,
but they are less than the invisible
waves of familiar voices between
sips of beer and messy tacos.

But the moment one friend captures
the threaded wander of the tears
no one else can see

Is the moment songs are restored,
hands warmed,
and words connect with words
to mean more than their sounds.