Their White Elephant

Silence sits upon silence,

a mute accumulation;





a hush pervades them all.

He won’t acknowledge

the white elephant in the room,

so neither will she;

the stillness deafens,

the lulls clamour,

all resound

with secret censorship

that wails without sound in her heart,

pounds and crackles in his brain.

He looks at her with a nameless longing,

she cries noiselessly into midnight pillows –

but still, the stillness snags,

expanding the girth

of their

white elephant.


For more on this topic, visit Growing With God in My Garden


Image courtesy of El Bueno, El Feo y El Malo

The years have added sediments,

Layers to her hard-worn core;

Each resplendent element

Accumulates and adds its lore –

Brilliant glaring youthful tones,

Subtle, mournful, painful hues;

Wrapping round her skeletal bones,

Percolating as they choose.

Remove one, and her personhood

Would be altered from its base;

Add one, and her entirety could

Adapt and find new resting place

For fresh material to stick –

Leaching chemicals that flow

Experience through veins so thick

That cross-section of life would show…