Poem about the thunderous noise within: Silent

October 1, 2020

Image by Sven Lachmann from Pixabay

Jaimin L. Symonds Patel pauses to listen to the voiceless whispers

can you hear it? in the trees? few they are i grant, but can you?

i go on walks, through the roads

and past the dotted green, those trees. i know it is just the wind, but i cannot help it,

but take those rustles to be whispers. trees with no mouths yet voices possess. the wisps they utter do not utter themselves away.

hear, the cars pass and cut through those voiceless words. they bombard themselves through the leaves yet so smooth they go, waves brushing upon the shore with their rubber.

even the trees they bend and dance in the voice they do not command yet the cars buses trains they go and buzz straight to where not darting.

but no match are these things for they that inhabit the walk. they glide through tweeting without halting the backdrop that drones on through it all never failing. the bustle of people stalking the same roads and parading their business busy as they are. never stopping never halting these things that never pause but see as i see it they are not shouting at all in all this noise is not a single assault nor drop of blood.

the invasion comes later. the pain comes later.

when the walks end and the world closes.

when the front door shuts and the windows steal.

that air. the voiceless whispers.

gone by none that you can see.

the real noise is in here.

can you hear it?

because i can.

and it is deafening.

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