Sizzling Silence

Quietly, he sits within a cloud
sizzling silence is all that he can hear
if only all that static would come clear
he'd hear the angels voices whispering
just asking him to open up his heart
and let them in

He holds his head between both hands
the white is light and ready to explode
as darkness lurks in shadows
waiting to implode in painful memory
while he clings to one last image
and he sings of this insanity he lives

At first the words are gibberish
they have no reason and no sense
but at least they have a rhythm
and he rocks his body back and forth
to mesmerize the awful fear away
chanting in a crazy, woeful voice

when suddenly the chaos calms
allowing him a deep and cleansing breath
while the collective rage and violence
that were about to overtake him
seem to settle down
travelling back somehow
from whence they came

He hears a door that's slammed and locked
Sees a burst of light that seems to seal
the seams where darkness
always used to slither right back in
each time he thought he'd finally got it right
and hope, that childhood fantasy, begins to glow
as warmth steals slowly through his veins

And the sizzling silence stirs itself
to a quiescence that can listen to what is
the sounds of traffic muted
as he focuses on all the crickets
singing in this night of wind
that stirs the window curtains
hears too, the fabric's gentle motion
billowing to tease and please his senses

Eyes closed, he spies a golden butterfly
just taking flight within a night
in superimposition of all days
and suddenly, wind whispers
through the leaves of endless trees
of meadows and of open spaces

where wildflowers find the meaning
within a scent of beauty reaching out
ascending through the air to share
this simple secret with the universe
as a voice arises, quietly and clear
poised within his inner ear to tell
how timelessness is his to have and hold
each time that he lets go of mind's insanity
and allows the nature of the world
to flow back into him

Centered thus, within himself
he opens inner vision to the starlit skies
and there, in open invitation
are her eyes . . .


Copyright© 2000 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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