Sometimes, In the Silence

Sometimes, in the silence, you can hear the things no one will say, but whisper in the night like prayers to a deaf god.
I hear them well, though I put my hands over my ears and cry and say it isn't true, but I know it is.

What do you hear in the quiet hours, when no one wants you and no one seeks you but yourself?

Sometimes, in the silence, secrets give themselves away.
The words of cowards leak out in muffled frustration and the pride of fools stomps loud among the wise and the weak. The joy of lovers warms itself among desire and blankets, and the lonely only hear themselves, and the ticking of the clock.

Sometimes, in the silence, the quiet dark is a mirror on the soul.
What do you see there? Are what you're meant to be and what you would choose to be the same? The silence gives eyes to the blind and I know how blind I am as I reflect back on things and try to see past the dark, beyond the past, and embrace tonight like a precious lover who will wake beside me on a bright new day.

Tonight, the silence is soothing. It bears no malice, it holds no sorrow.
It just is. Sometimes, silence is golden.
And a friend to share it with is precious.

2000 Sonja Torres


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