Silence

Silence 

might seem to be a stripping,

a removal of words and sound.

But I have found

it is a weighty addition,

a garment wrapped around, 

not to muffle or stiffle 

but to bind up wounds, 

to staunch the bleeding out 

of howling tombs 

until I can find ressurection 

at the ready 

in my heart, steady. 

Before I speak,

I must taste Your fragrant life 

on my tongue.