No Curse

What can you say now

To that kind of silence?

            Not the blissful quiet

            That descends

            At evening’s end,

            Nor the silence that

            Pierces through

            Soulful songs

            And seeks

            To burst forth.

Not the loud,

Pervasive silence

That descends

After tumultuous noise,

Nor the restful quiet

That only a ticking clock

Keeps rhythm

And rhyme to.


All these I embrace,

            Rejoice in even,

                        In silence’s ecstasy


What can we say now

To the other silence?

            Where words


            Scream blame

            Or ill-regard,


            In pointless,


            White noise


The kind that grieves

And causes grief.

How this silence punishes,

Betrays its name

And purpose

What say we to silence then?


Hush, love,

And hold,

Redeem the silence,

Befriend its nature.

It knows no curse

In peace.