‘Silence’: Powerful Poem by Felicia Murrell
Silence
If you’re silent,
you can hear the forest breathe,
the holy hush of the tree’s limb.
“Silence,” said Thomas Merton, “is God’s first language”:
the way it soaks into your skin,
surrounds you,
blanketing you like the forest’s breath.
Silence:
The cadence of the land at rest,
the body asleep,
the heart awake.
Silence:
The deep rhythmic breathing of a mind slowed down,
an ocean still,
wet dew clinging to grass blade.
Silence:
The sacred song trapped in a bird’s breast before its first
chirp,
the still of night across a desert landscape
wrapped in a bone-aching chill
before the sun rises to scorch its parched earth.
Silence:
The lusty gaze of onlookers staring at the negro on the
lynching tree,
neck snapped,
life ended,
feet dangling,
back and forth,
back and forth.
Silenced:
Hands up, don’t shoot!
Body thrumming with a heady sense of power.
Hands in pocket,
resting pose, knees embedded into a man’s neck.
Silence, please.
I. Can’t. Breathe.
Silenced.
Source: CAC, Richard Rohr