Hearing Silence
Hearing silence: deafening.
There is no shame in deafness.
Not in hearing lies the fault.
I strain my eyes at silent walls,
dull with grey, speckled by doubt,
and wonder if my vision’s gone awry.
Why do I look?
Walls will not change of their own.
They have no voice to speak.
Yet there is a voice that speaks.
No use wondering why I don’t hear it.
Perhaps all I need … is listen.
(6 February 2008)
The Polished Glass of Pure Perfection
The polished glass of pure perfection
cannot be seen from where I stand.
Like the moon,
or the eyes of a portrait,
it shifts as I move,
only–unlike them–
it hides.
Just a glimpse,
I desire.
Just a peek.
What radiance would I see?
What mysteries unfold?
But I see no reflection:
not of me,
nor the room,
nor anything I can fathom.
I fall back on my knowledge,
my belief,
my suspicion,
my fear.
Is it there?
(29 January 2008)
