They believe that we are no threat.
And they are right.
Yet little do they know
The power of Silence
Though immersed and surrounded by it.
They rarely notice
And certainly, never give ear.
For there is too much to say.
Too much to do.
Too little time.
They are too busy
Doing good
To hear.
While all the while Silence grows.
With deafening stealth.
Until…
Silence only knows.
But those who listen
Hear…and wait.
For the end
We all suppose.
The end when noise
Has worn itself out
When words have had their say
When scheming, toiling, and anguish cease,
When all that’s left is deathly Silence,
That will be the day.
The day when silent
Hearts are still.
And noise is done away.
And then break forth
Eternal Day!
When Silence speaks
And earth bursts forth
In radiant Life
The fruit of silent
Suffering souls.
Thrice proven
Through woeful noise.
And then crying, weeping
Covering ears,
The chattering horde
Will hide
In rocks and hills
And corn whisky stills
With the one thing they can’t abide.
For hide as they will,
The Silence still
Will find them there
And chase them
God only knows where,
Till Silence reigns
From plane to plane
And peace
Be our reward
For bearing the grief
Of their unbelief
In Silence.
…
Yes, they believe that
We are no threat…
And they are right.
