The Silence Comes Clamoring.

a poem by Linda Bates Terrell, USA

The silence around me,
screams gasps so violently,
yet, its crashing echoes caress me.
There's no winds at the windows

not one single bell's
chilling ring.

not even a babies hungry
cry at midnight.

not a smashing glass
upon the stone floor.

Just silent nothingness,
yet, knocking at my door.

not one single whimper
of a child's giggle.

not even a slamming door
from my own anger within.

not a clap of thunders
echos sending shivers.

Just the silent nothingness
spewing it's vicious sad quivers.

not one chiming of the
front porch chimes.

not even a single fly
buzzing about the room.

not a bellowing of the
neighbors dogs growls.

Just the quiet nothingness
of all it's silent howls

I cast out my fears, my sadness screams-- no more!
I even ignore the silence when knocking at the door,
for beyond the days giggles, tears flow in the night.
The quiet blackness resides within its silence ploy.
The whiteness is but pure grief of one's own lost joy.

Linda Bates Terrell
July 2, 2013

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Lightening Bugs
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