The Silence That I Crave
The silence that I crave
Is not an empty room—
It is the hush of frightened wings
At last folded into rest.
It is my body learning
A language soft as dawn,
Saying in warm, unbroken breath:
You are safe. You may go on.
No thunder lives here now,
No echo of old fear—
Only the steady light of breath
And time that bends to care.
I lay my burdens down like stones
At the edge of quiet air,
And even the weight of sorrow learns
It does not belong everywhere.
Healing comes as morning does—
Not sudden, not in flame,
But with a shy and steady truth
That whispers my real name.
The dark unknots its ancient hands,
The heart forgets to brace,
And every cell begins to hum
Its own forgiving grace.
What once was clenched becomes a song,
What trembled learns to stay,
And pain, astonished at such light,
At last loosens its hold on day.
The silence that I crave
Is courage without sound,
A field where all my scattered parts
Lie whole upon the ground.
It is not absence—it is peace
That finally speaks so plain:
You lived. You survived. You are here.
And that is enough to remain.
Positive, like rising air,
Positive, like the sun,
Positive as the quiet truth
That says: Healing has begun.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
