February 17, 2017
17 years ago Stephen died in my womb. I could not save him.
I sit . . . and . . .Linger

Silence
is never
silent.

Babble fills the void –
rising from within
the darkest corners
bouncing
off broken hearts
and then
the silence we so long to hear
jabbers with questions
ever near
buried
in the rubble
of all those things
we fear
of all we once held dear.

We cannot make up answers
or should we even try?
But ponder, yes ponder.
We – must – linger – here.

Relentless questions
lead us to
an honest place,
a desert space
stripped of dazzle, masks,
illusions with a happy face.

Echoing off the sterile walls?
Nothing.
No reply.
Just the drip, drip, drip
of endless,
“Why?”

Yet underground and deeper down
a voice within us calls.
Calls us deeper
deeper, deeper,
still;
deeper
until
we are at the end
of answers . . .
ourselves . . .
our strength . . .
our will.

The treasure awaits.
He awaits.
All other noise
evaporates
into His love,
in His embrace.

His draws us close
to His knowing heart
that beats a melody –
haunting,
beautiful,
healing,
free;
as nail scared hands
cup my soul
ever so
delicately.
And then?
A hush.
A lull.
This silence
drowns out
all.
No answer can compare
the mysteries whispered here.
Yes!
I will settle into
this sacred
sphere
this holy gap
as heaven draws near
and linger.