Long Silence reigned Poems
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Silence reigned….for the moment.
Nothing stirred in the garden.
No owl screeched.
No bird flew.
And inky darkness seemed to spread.
Even the moon
hid itself in shame.
A light breeze rose suddenly freezing all.
It rushed through the trees, wailing.
Still the man-God stood tall.
Existential angst wrinkled his face.
He felt anxiety, distress, foreboding.
The sins of humanity were on his shoulders.
Suddenly his weakness took the upper hand,
And he fell down to the ground.
Stressful sweat erupted on his forehead
And on his hands.
As was his habit he prayed.
And prayed. Yet the sweat continued
And turned to blood.
There were no friends to help him.
He was alone
And his last recognition was a kiss
From the lips of a traitor.
Do you betray the son of man with a kiss?
,
Sleep lifted its gossamer veil from my eyes this morn
before dawn's roseate beams of light had been born.
Silence reigned as the world around me still slept.
I watched a cat in the garden as it stealthily crept.
Towards prey it encroached, on a songbird trilling.
To let nature take its course today, I was not willing.
I opened the window to chase the stalking feline away,
and heard the distant chiming of bells holding sway.
Sunlight peered through clouds with a glow of inflection,
and the songbirds I'd saved, sang a melody of perfection.
"Ring, bells of hope." I whispered as night was breached.
"Ring out to empty hearts that faith has never reached."
If only the sonorous sounds of the bells could be heard,
would mankind accept the truth of God's written word?
Would the warring of nations then come to and ending,
and peace among races of men never again need mending?
I listened and prayed for all men to join in a brotherhood.
"Ring aloud so all may feel the need for love as they should."
Blaring horns and loud voices intruded upon my tranquility.
I closed the window from the world's clamorous hostility.
Beautiful, frivolous queen bided her time.
The castle stood tall and strong.
Silence reigned. No one dared to speak.
Below the enemy had gathered ready for a fight.
A little soldier thought he was just a pawn
in the hands of the King. Someone sent him a message.
He moved forwards towards the enemy.
The queen frowned and moved sideways
towards the edge of the defence.
Consternation rose up. Was it a wise move?
Everyone looked at her regalia,
her splendid crown, her painted face
with verdant leaves and eyelashes glittering.
Immediately the bishop intervened.
Some soldiers fell, the battle fierce.
Time passed and the black knight took his position,
near his lovely queen he stood,
for he had to protect her from all ails.
Alas that left the King on his own.
Another knight and bishop intervened.
But the opponent king was astute and steadfast.
One move and a high cry was uttered.
Checkmate. And all the little pieces
fell in disarray upon the chequered board.
A dark and evil creature
Pursued a man today.
He tried to run,
He tried to hide,
But the darkness followed him.
He ran down the street,
And around the corner.
He ran up the stairs
And through the door,
Yet the darkness followed still
He shut his doors,
Turned on his lights,
And tried to find some peace;
But even in his lighted house,
The darkness still was there.
“Oh, foul creature,
What can you be,
And why do you pursue?”
For a moment, silence reigned,
Then the darkness answered him.
“I am your sin,
Your dirty deeds,
The things you try to hide.
Your sin cursed soul, is what I am,
The darkness within you.
There’s a price to be paid
For this lack of light.
Eternal fire, torment, and pain
Is the price that you must pay
For this darkness inside you.”
“Oh woe is me!”
The man then cried.
“Your price is much too high!
Is there no other way to pay?”
But the darkness in silence remained.
A knock at his door
Pierced his despair,
And he trudged to it to answer.
There stood a man with a smiling face
For no darkness followed him.
The stranger at the door said,
“I can see,
That you are in despair.
What troubles you?” and the man replied,
“That darkness over there.
He says, I’m doomed,
To eternal fire,
And doomed to eternal pain.
Do you know a way for me to escape
That darkness over there?”
“A man named Jesus,”
The stranger replied,
“The Son of God once came.
He shed His perfect, precious blood,
That darkness to send away.
The price for sin
Was paid in full when
He died and rose again.
His sinless blood can wash away
That darkness deep within.
This gift of love
Is free for all,
It gives eternal life.
Beautiful Heaven can be your home,
A place that darkness cannot go.”
“What must I do?”
The man then asked,
“So this gift I can receive?”
“Call unto God, acknowledge your sin,
Your darkness then confess,
And accept His gift
Of eternal life,
Eternal death forsake.
His blood will cover all your sins,
And the darkness then will fade”
“Oh, God,” the man prayed,
“I accept your gift,
Please wash away my sins.
Come into my heart and lead me today,
From darkness into light.
Calmoruus calamity
Calm, in feather doona encumbered,
slept soundly.
Even the stars twinkled
in hushed, squelched, muted tones.
Silence reigned in solemnity, in peace.
All of a sudden
the deafening din
of cacophonic hard rock shrill
rattled the rafters,
jolted the sleepers
starkly to upright awake.
I ran into the living room
with hands covering my ears.
The wee little 'Nest' device,
throbbing there next to the
rumbling pulsing speakers
was hallucinating, tripping.
Its lights doing a late-night give.
The telly was flashing
bright disco light shows and tells.
I shouted to Siri with all my might
"Off, All OFF, Cancel, Reset, Exit, F-Off",
But all to no avail.
How could dear Siri,
nested there so snugly, hear me
above the infernal din?
I grabbed the remote but it too
was away with the pixies, pixelating.
with its LED's flashing, winking a beat in tune.
In desperation I dragged
the speaker's electrical cables
right outta the wall.
Ah! silence reigned again.
But then, then, then,
the neighbors lights all around lit up
like a Christmas tree on steroids.
The irate banging on doors began,
shouting and screaming.
"Turn it Off", "Turn it Off", "Stop"
The phone and all the mobiles
around the house rang.
The alarm went off.
The kids were screaming
We alone, all blown,
must atone, condone,
Siri's slip up.
Dusk fell rapidly. Three women dressed in black
With their young lanky companion hurried back
To their rather small impoverished dark room.
Only an oil lamp that added to their gloom.
Silence reigned except for the youngest maiden
Sobbing, though all were with heavy heart laden.
The elder sat on a bed, shedding no tears
That man buried was in reality hers.
O what a cruel world, how her son suffered!
How many times he was so harshly buffered?
Religious leaders had him sentenced to death.
So crucified was he until his last breath.
Generous of Joseph to give him a tomb.
Brave Nicodemus but with a face of doom,
Provided fresh linen and bought perfumed spice.
There they buried the young man from Paradise.
Still in the darkness the elder woman sat,
No one dared engage her in frivolous chat.
No one knew the pain in her much wounded breast,
It had began with his treacherous arrest.
Still the worst was yet to come when with a lance
Checking his death, the Roman saw in a glance.
That's when she felt the cruel lance pierce her heart,
The young man quickly held her seeing her start.
Now on her hard bed she quietly pondered
My God Father, what will happen, she wondered.
She then knew her mission as God had decreed.
On the third day Her dearest Son would be freed.
I dream of far shores where my name was meant to be carved.
I aspire to climb mountains where my flag was to be raised.
I imagine a distant land where a song calls me home.
So many ambitions—yet my existence is my greatest threat.
I was always ready for adventure,
Belonged to no land, no boundaries, no chains.
The repeated "I" meant this life was mine—
That was the plan.
Seasons passed, yet I remained bound.
Summer sweat soaked my cotton sleeves.
Monsoon rains slid off my full-length poncho.
Winter flakes brushed from my hooded jacket.
Spring winds played with my dress, yet I stood still.
I only wished to live—
Never to apologise for my existence.
But I was told: my existence was my biggest threat.
They warned me of monsters before I stepped outside.
Instead of guiding me, they taught me to wield a sword.
I longed for maps and compasses—to set sail on my own—
But was told I mustn’t go alone.
I asked only one thing: tell me the monster’s name.
Gasps echoed. Silence reigned.
They had always spoken of my protector,
Yet I had met him just the day before, promised at last my voyage.
He wasn’t mighty, nor wise—
Just another dreamer with uncertainty in his eyes.
Curious, I showed him my maps. Had he traveled before?
He laughed—"Life cannot be taught, only explored."
I asked him then, does he know the monster’s name?
He smiled, flicked my hair. "The seas we chart are foreign to such things."
(Continued in part 2)
I wandered round the lonely graveyard.
The few mourners did not bother to look at me.
I ought to know the paths so well
Ah there it was, unembellished as I had left it.
Silence reigned everywhere, except for some bugs
I began to wonder what I was doing there.
Then a small group of mourners appeared.
Four bored men carried a coffin, plain as can be.
The burial took very little time to carry out.
A priest mumbled a few prayers and all left.
Except for a woman all dressed in ebony black.
She shed no tears nor mumbled any prayer.
And then she left without one glace at me.
There on the slab someone left a picture frame.
Curiosity got the better of me and soon I saw
It was a picture of me. The slab opened
And I just entered my place inside and all was calm.
Fiction, just a ghost story
A year has passed since windows draped in gloom
Since heartache's cure impossible to prove
A year since silence reigned within his room
Since hands upon the clock have ceased to move
Two years have passed - when morning bells are rung
Harmonies do not carry to his ear
Two years in muted night, no dawn's begun
Light too far from his eyes, his grief too near
Three years have passed - new leaves now fill the wood
They have brought him flowers from the fields
His raw suffering, still misunderstood
Beneath ice of loss, unbloomed spring yields
Time unmeasured by years and hours spent
Exists as indefinite bereavement.
7/21/18
In the silent halls where silence reigned supreme,
An unseen storm shattered the stillness, like a foreign voice,
A harsh, uninvited voice that wove a tale of judgments,
Speaking of unseen mistakes, lost in shadow.
Its echo spread, bitter as a dark wave,
Without evidence, without support, yet seeking to tarnish names,
The mirror cracked, its truth betrayed by words,
But in its shards, a silent lesson gleams.
Not every spoken truth can soothe the wounded soul,
For dignity, though bruised, is clothed in silence and strength,
And the storm may boom, roar, and threaten,
But the soul, like an oak, rises again, unyielding.
In the depths of solitude, where shadows weave their dance,
I seek meaning in the chaos of words, in their endless echo,
And I wonder if silence can be a sacred altar,
Where souls meet, beyond noise and storm.
Through the labyrinths of the mind, in search of eternal truth,
I find that sometimes, silence is the most sincere answer,
For in its deep quiet, a cosmic power hides,
Which can heal the wounds left by relentless storms.
Thus, I return to myself, with each verse like an incantation,
And in the silence of the universe, I find my lost balance,
Understanding that truth and dignity have their own voice,
Whispering among the stars, in an eternal dance of light.