"The Song of Silence"

The Song of Silence

Poetry / Spirituality / Reflection

I. The Prelude of Quiet

Before sound, there was silence—full and humming.

There is a stillness before breath,

Before thought uncoils itself from the spine,

Where time folds into itself

And the soul listens for a song

That no ear can hear.

I stood there—

In the hush between heartbeats—

And for a moment,

I wasn’t a person,

I was just

Presence.

II. The Temple Without Walls

Some truths don’t need to be spoken—only sat with.

I found God

Not in words,

Not in sermons,

But in the place

Where no one spoke.

A bench beneath a quiet tree.

A breath drawn slowly through open lungs.

The light crawling softly

Through morning’s open hands.

No one told me the sacred

Could live in silence—

But there, I met it

Every time I dared

To listen.

III. The Loudest Thing I’ve Ever Heard

What if the soul only speaks in whispers?

Grief is loud,

But silence is louder.

Not the silence of absence—

But the silence of presence

Too vast for language.

When my mother died,

The house was full of noise—

Casseroles, condolences,

Busy hands, distracted prayers.

But the real mourning came

In the quiet after.

The chair she sat in.

The tea she didn't finish.

The clock that ticked without her.

There, in that soundless room,

I heard her say everything

She never could.

IV. The Pause Between

All music lives in the spaces between notes.

We are trained to fill silence—

With opinions, answers, apologies.

But the holiest things in life

Live in the pause:

The breath before “I love you.”

The glance before the kiss.

The stillness between tears.

Why are we so afraid

To sit in the gap

Where truth reveals itself

Without asking for words?

V. The Weight of Stillness

Not all silence is empty. Some is full of the Divine.

I went to the ocean

To hear the crashing waves—

But the silence between each tide

Was what healed me.

There, I realized

That stillness has weight.

It is not absence,

But abundance restrained.

Silence is not the lack of sound—

It is the presence

Of everything else

Finally being allowed

To speak.

VI. Conversations with the Void

When you stop talking, the universe begins.

I asked the stars a question once.

I waited a lifetime for the answer.

It didn’t come in thunder

Or scripture

Or song.

It came in

a breath of wind

on a night when no one else was awake.

It came in

a sigh my body didn’t know it was holding.

It came in

a silence so complete

I forgot what loneliness was.

The stars never said a word—

But I knew what they meant.

VII. The Choir of the Unspoken

Even silence sings, if you know how to listen.

There is a choir

That performs only for the heart.

It uses no instruments.

It writes no sheet music.

It is found in:

the hush before dawn

the flutter of pages not yet read

the prayer said only in feeling, not in voice

This choir sings of a peace

You don’t earn—

You remember.

VIII. The Last Note

Every ending echoes in stillness.

When the music ends,

There is a hush.

A sacred hush.

The final breath

Held by the room,

As if time itself

Is honoring

What just was.

In that moment,

The silence sings.

And we,

Without realizing,

Sing back.

Epilogue: Listen

You are not broken

Because you crave quiet.

You are not wrong

For needing silence.

The world will offer you noise—

Distraction dressed as importance.

But when you choose stillness,

When you sit with nothing

But the hum of your own breath—

You will hear it.

The song

Without words.

The melody

Of the soul.

The music

Of the eternal.

It has always been there.

It has always been

you.