The weight of silence

Silence arrives on careful feet,

A measured hush, a softened beat,

It settles where the loud once stood,

A quiet pulse, both sharp and good.

It does not shout, it does not plead,

It gives the soul the space it needs,

A held-in breath the world forgot,

A pause between the wounds we’ve got.

In silence, truth removes its mask,

No crowd, no noise, no need to ask,

The heart speaks plain, the mind goes still,

The will remembers how to will.

Silence is not the lack of sound,

But depth where deeper things are found,

A hidden drum beneath the skin,

Where endings close and start begin.

It weighs more than a spoken lie,

It lingers long after goodbye,

It carves its mark in moments passed,

A shadow that is meant to last.

In silence, grief learns how to breathe,

Without a script, without a sheath,

Tears fall without a single word,

Yet every meaning can be heard.

Silence can heal, and silence can break,

It knows what it is asked to take,

A sacred vow, a sharpened blade,

A debt of truth that must be paid.

It lives between the ticks of time,

Between the reason and the rhyme,

A waiting room for hope and fear,

Where what we are becomes more clear.

When anger fades and echoes die,

Silence remains, it does not lie,

It holds the wreckage, calm and wide,

And lets the soul decide its side.

So do not fear its open hand,

Or think it cannot understand,

For silence speaks when words are thin,

And tells us who we’ve always been.