Absence and Silence

In the gray light before dawn, raindrops

stutter on the roof as I lie alone in bed,

a blue blanket pulled up to my chin.

A sheet of rain hides the far shore of

the lake, but I can see an orange reflection

from the headlight of a motorcycle

shimmer on the road below the cottage.

Silver threads of rain slide down the

windows near the bed and two branches

of a maple tree bend and sway like

lovers, one above the other.

An angel could descend out of the windy

sky to tell me how immeasurably

perfect all this is, but I don’t need an angel

to remind me of what I know already.

I want to hear an angel tell me

about emptiness and silence. I want

to hear about the one who is not here.

© 2011 J.M.Keating

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

The maximum upload file size: 512 MB. You can upload: image, audio, video, document, spreadsheet, interactive, text, archive, code, other. Links to YouTube, Facebook, Twitter and other services inserted in the comment text will be automatically embedded. Drop files here

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.