This Silence

This rising tide of
silence murmurs life
into my fault lines.

She always finds her
own way home in me,
to flood the cellars.

Here she takes her seat
– she has always been
the abbess of my abyss.

She greets those hungry
ghosts as long-lost friends
as they fade into her waters.

She is all that’s left of my
ruins – she is the foundations
and the pillars of this world.

1 Comment

  1. Barbara S says:

    Reblogged this on Solitary 4 Tomorrow – in Dialogue and commented:
    found in a post about Thomas Merton – found very attractive


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