Silence

What I lack,

I make up for in silence.

The people, the anger, the hate and

The violence.

I limit the days, and my hours in this quiet space.

Often I like to think I am far away.

But the world knocks,

And I’m not needed here anymore.

What do you want, O wise one?

Should I tell you how I fell or how I rose?

Which do you prefer?

Both.

Very well.

Then listen

And be assured.

What I lack,

I make up for in stature.

I clasp my hands, hope that my soul itself

Fails to fracture.

I listen to the silence,

I hear its call.

And when it wants me,

You'd think that I never existed

At all.