A Poem: Silence


Have you heard all the sounds
silence holds?

Cessation of movement,
stillness of mind.

The ceasing of all efforts
reveals a door

hitherto closed,
and shielded from view.

In silence,
we open

as a musical note does
to the one who calls it out.

In silence,
we feel

the blossoming urge of a tight bud,
the burning need to bloom.

Ears tuned to a different register,
we note

a swift beat of wings,
a mounting chord.

And we realise, with new clarity
that silence holds a thousand sounds.

Echoes from elsewhere
but which we recognise as our own.

Notes that ring out shrill
as the flute,

or soft as a strummed harp
in gentle hands.

Tones in which we hear the birds,
and the sea,

and the sound of our own hearts
meeting our shore.

And the language we discern,
though one we cannot translate,

is understood the same
as any audible voice.

Yes, that we might hear the sounds
silence holds.

That we might still ourselves
to open the door.

Ana Lisa de Jong
May 2018

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