I don’t shy away from silence
we’re different that way… not better
just different. I wouldn’t dare imagine
what bright white you’re hearing
outthere allalone, with your hands
pressed together—little walls
around a universe just small enough
to understand—I am surely mistaken.
We’re different that way, different enough
to quietly agree on smaller things: weather
changes and fresh cut blooms are best
when we are alone in silence I can hear
the unfolding of infinite petals, each
takes a small insignificant breath before
becoming something actual. You hear
I don’t have ears for god.
We’re different that way.
Not better, just different… I’m glad.