Silence
deafening silence
not of my choosing
never to hear
the whisper of a breeze through the trees
the bubbling of a mountain stream
the cry of a newborn baby
the laughter of children at play
the staccato rhythm of a rainfall
the booming roll of thunder
the harmony of a gospel choir
the haunting dialogue of memorable movies
the soft moans of a lover’s ectasy
threads in the rich tapestry of the sounds of life…….
silence
deafening silence
not of my choosing
I have thrown myself prostrate
countless times
upon this altar of silence
cursing
pleading
weeping
praying
to the gods of technology
and their medical acolytes
please take away this cross
of silence from me
spare me this desolation….
silence
deafening silence
not of my choosing
but
it is the hand of the potter
never ceasing
to shape me, mold me, knead me
a living sculpture
tempered anew each day in the kiln of life
not into the brittleness of despair and self pity
but into the strength and durability of faith
that all i was, all i am, and all i’ll ever be
is not limited
by this deafening silence
©L. Kupfer
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