Soft and still, the silent snow
Speaks in icy syllables –
Rosy cheeks and tingling toes,
Children carving angel’s wings,
Jingling sleigh-bells, frozen breath;
Holidays and lights on strings,
Life in temporary death.
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,
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
For more on this topic, visit Growing With God in My Garden