It's TABday.
Silence (a meditation)
It seems like a shame that there’s only one word
for silence.
Silence isn’t just the interval between notes
or the space between quotes.
Silence is somewhat more than a hole
in a bowl of sound.
Sound and silence define each other
like matter and space
like yin and yang
Silence, like sound, has textures, intensities, durations,
placement.
As a child I learned the uses of silence
the cloak of invisibility
or at least inaccessibility it confers.
I learned to read silence like a grazing animal
in a land of predators.
I could tell which silence was the calm before the storm,
which were cold and which were warm.
Think of the exasperating silence of pantomime
the indifferent silence of strangers
the threatening silence of enemies
the hostile silence of withheld praise
Consider the silence after the battle
when sound has been exhausted and the combatants rest
and reload their arguments with fresh clips of invective
and fit silencers to their big guns of Shut the Fuck Up!
I know the horrified silence that follows violence
the moment after a fist collides with a face
the fastball strikes a batter
the child falls from a swing
the weapon is fired
the silence of time in suspension
and heartbeats frozen in panic
But there’s also reflective silence, reverent silence, pregnant silence
the creative timing of actors, comics, musicians
the frightened silence of intimidated people
the empty silence of exhaustion or depression
the vow of silence, the code of silence
and silence in the courtroom
I’ve know silence that lets words in but not out
silence like a black hole, which draws communication in
and crushes it
my father’s silence
an isolating, out-of-control silence
the silence of despair
the words that would never be heard or understood
I struggle to escape the cloak of silence
the drape of the cape concealing the shape
of the goddess of silence
whose name has never been spoken
lest it be broken.
12/89
Boston
Silence (a meditation)
It seems like a shame that there’s only one word
for silence.
Silence isn’t just the interval between notes
or the space between quotes.
Silence is somewhat more than a hole
in a bowl of sound.
Sound and silence define each other
like matter and space
like yin and yang
Silence, like sound, has textures, intensities, durations,
placement.
As a child I learned the uses of silence
the cloak of invisibility
or at least inaccessibility it confers.
I learned to read silence like a grazing animal
in a land of predators.
I could tell which silence was the calm before the storm,
which were cold and which were warm.
Think of the exasperating silence of pantomime
the indifferent silence of strangers
the threatening silence of enemies
the hostile silence of withheld praise
Consider the silence after the battle
when sound has been exhausted and the combatants rest
and reload their arguments with fresh clips of invective
and fit silencers to their big guns of Shut the Fuck Up!
I know the horrified silence that follows violence
the moment after a fist collides with a face
the fastball strikes a batter
the child falls from a swing
the weapon is fired
the silence of time in suspension
and heartbeats frozen in panic
But there’s also reflective silence, reverent silence, pregnant silence
the creative timing of actors, comics, musicians
the frightened silence of intimidated people
the empty silence of exhaustion or depression
the vow of silence, the code of silence
and silence in the courtroom
I’ve know silence that lets words in but not out
silence like a black hole, which draws communication in
and crushes it
my father’s silence
an isolating, out-of-control silence
the silence of despair
the words that would never be heard or understood
I struggle to escape the cloak of silence
the drape of the cape concealing the shape
of the goddess of silence
whose name has never been spoken
lest it be broken.
12/89
Boston
I'mean working on a rosh hashanah speech. The point of it is that, among all the many many words we say that day, perhaps the most meaningful are the silences in between. Thanks for posting this poem. I needed to have it right now.
ReplyDeleteI'd love to read the speech!
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