To some of us the world is blue with silence,
because silence is bright yellow, bright green,
and silence is wide and narrow,
full of prayers, full of good and evil.
And following along are the thunderous silences,
like empty sports stadiums, closed race tracks,
and shattering cruelties that surround us in red.
There are curiosities of silence, of the strong, silent type,
the quiet ones, those children who have been too quiet
for too long; the silence of the sulking, depressed, lonely,
contemplative, guilty, puzzler, wanderer, and lover.
There is the silence of love’s hidden work,
the burning silence of sunrise and sunset,
and when the music begins, silence deepens it.
For the troubled: outward silence; inward screams.
Make room for silence; live in the mercy of silence.
When you are in the noise of nature and you hear
your footsteps and breathing, bow in that holy place.
Let silence be an art we practice.
