Morning Ghosts

Slow footsteps from the door to the street.
Grey mist hangs and surrounds everything.
The haze of dreaming has bled into waking.
Trees appear as if they were ghosts planted
into the ground. Listening for a sound or a 
word but there is only stillness. Rays of sun
are hidden but lurking. Awake but unsure.
Even the birds are silent. Eyes close. Listen.
Where is that which does not wish to be heard?

moving in silence
breath in the chill morning air
exhale quietly 

power of silence

your lips do not part for me

wind rushes by us

There is no silence
merely an absence of sound

the moon stares at us

gazing in admiration

our mouths are silent

A Day Like This

I cannot will my mind to nothingness
on a day
such as this-

sitting at my desk
the ambient sounds
of birds in trees
while a plane
flies overhead.

I cannot decipher the language
being chirped
because it is not for me to know.

Stillness cannot be bought
only attained
in measured doses
with much effort.

Even then
there is no guarantee
of finding that elusive
state of being.

My mind fills with thoughts
of worry and
needs to be filled.

Unease is an easy thing to find.

My worries are temporary
stops that are given too much weight.

If I could speak to you directly
I do not know what words I would have
for you.

              Do you have words for me?

If either of us have any questions
let us raise our hands now
and call on each other in the order
our hands went up.

unknown

Every night must end

in silence.

A clarity that burns

eardrums,

that purifies heart.

The crickets hum

outside my window,

this night is not yet

done. We listen

to one another

and wonder

what more

there is to know.

small tokens

Hands fall into one another as naturally
as rain reaching the ground.

Small comforts of warmth, tokens of affection
soothing unseen parts.

Caressing your nape, breathing you in-
you do the same.

The world grows silent around us,
the wind raising the hair on our arms.

to dream

I dream of a universe caged and free,
of contradictions reconciled
and ambitions blossoming
into actions as great 
as the spirit they were
birthed from. 

I dream of a more compassionate people, 
a softer noose to hang from, 
a better way to say nothing,
a silence that is profound,
a silence more powerful
than any word. 

Silence

You go to where Silence lives,

She is waiting, she can love you.


You go to where Silence lives,

She knows how long you've waited.


Midnight flowing through her windows,

No more waiting.


Silence, only this,

Silence, only us,

Silence, no more.

The Great Silence

your tongue grows heavy

with silence

lips pursed tight

only an unspoken 

language

remains between us.