Monday, 3 August 2015

Sister Silence

Stabat Mater

There is a Silence, the mere absence of sound.
There is a Silence empty of thought.
But these are the rarest of the sisters,
daughters of the Void.

There is a Silence who seethes with the fires of Hell.
There is a Silence in whom the saints commune.
There is a Silence who has nothing to say.
There is a Silence who needs no words for joy.

There is a Silence who saw Judas hang.
There is a Silence who first beheld the risen Christ.
There is a Silence ushering bone-chilling news.
There is a Silence in which a child delights.

There is a Silence before the first intake of air.
There is a Silence after I last exhale.
There is a Silence who gives birth to despair.
There is a Silence in whom oneness buds.

There is a Silence who has no answers left.
There is a Silence who makes insight take form.
There is a Silence who is fertile with words.
There is a Silence who lives in a catatonic state.

There is a Silence atop a mountain at night.
There is a Silence beneath a stormy sea.
There is a Silence, vessel of flow.
There is a Silence, music’s own rest.

There is a Silence at creation’s explosive expansion.
There is a Silence who inhabits interstitial space.
There is a Silence who embraces the tabernacle.
There is a Silence awaiting her absent spouse.

There is a Silence, the greatest of ills.
There is a Silence, the shirker’s maid.
There is a Silence, the least of all wrongs.
There is a Silence, the perfect response.

Sister Silence, ...