Well, what more can I say!
About silence, so much has been said,
Mere words, they strike my eardrum,
Bounce back and fall down dead.
Nothing penetrates through that wall,
For I do not hear even the clarion call,
As I watch the bugler’s cheeks rise and fall:
And when I walk this city’s street,
I feel the step not the sound of feet,
Nor the sound of the automobiles
Or the curses of the imbeciles.
Mere words! what are they,
For I do not hear what you say
I look at you and you look at me,
The eyes meet and the heart speaks,
And I feel the softness of your cheeks.
Mere words they can never sing,
The song that my heart sang,
Or cry like the child therein,
For in that silence that surrounds me
I see my God there within.
Mere words they fail me when
On the paper I place my pen,
To translate the thoughts that flood
The recesses in my head.