Your translucent stillness has always betrayed my silence…
Oh, God, why could I lie to anyone, but You? Without a word, You stood and beamed my heart through and stole the darkest thought before I, unaware, could name a coarse excuse.
But I have stayed and prayed and swayed in nonsense…
As I have watched reflections in the water and let the leaf’s contour touch my face, the tears of the soul have leaped into my eyes. But I have found the Light much brighter than my sorrow blinding my, transfixed in nowhere, times.
I am nothing, but the dry wood saved from blaze of fire. And yet, the tissue of the heart’s delicacy burns with anger towards things I’ve done. Have I committed an affair with my own desires? Have I not seen the different self reflecting in the Silent River’s run?
Oh, how arid all these days have been; weary feet are walking in the desert… The dullest flame in heart’s abyss is dying to burn bright. But the blind is yet to see the splendor of Unseen, for can’t a burst of little match take the lid off faintest night?
Your translucent stillness has always betrayed my silent song: doubtlessly attentive, You have read the stanzas of its vanity and doubt.
Yes, I have been diving in denying silence for so long.
…but what happens if I shout?
Will the waters tremble in my soul if it dares to open the seal of consolation? Isn’t all the grace and sound of sweet release discerned in midst of self-damnation?
If so… what happens if I fiercely shout?
Unwillingly, I drive myself to question if the outcry of a strangled prey can any how have stronger resonance than the breathless muteness of a murderer’s heart.
The pain of killing can often times surpass the pain of dying.
So, as I, a murderer, stand silent in the Light with eyes of foul innocence, I let the prey inside me, yes, my soul, to scream in agony of hideous silence.
(…inwardly, in secret, praying that His translucent stillness will find a way to uncover all of my defense…)
Confession can sometimes be the most difficult part of healing. Doubts and thoughts. Desired peace. And yet an inner silence. Inspired by the current waves in my life.
Written Nov. 2008