UNLOVED SILENCE

UNLOVED SILENCE

Lord how long will these dove flap their wings

And land on my window seal

And sing in their quietness

Their eyes have nothing to say

And their steps are filled with patience

Time has no meaning on leaving but arrives at the birth of sunrise

Lord when will my flower grow in the calling of your name?

And cut the grass to show off my roots

When will you shine the light on my shrivelled petals?

And feed me the rain that drips of your wings

Why do you let the crows peck on my leaves?

And eat the rest of me.

Lord why is that, my curtains are open in the day but all I see is the night

I see the stars are not in my view, hidden in someone else’s sight

The missing reflection of the moon is left in the sea

Like me.

Lord I kept your words, the words I thought you’ll say

In a jar near my bedside, in hope these words will be written

By your feather and dipped in the blood of your son Jesus

Seeing the same two doves, questions me

Is there a sign I haven’t seen.

Lord when will the leaves fall upwards from my tree of my knowledge?

And catch the apples that falls from the eye of the self-centred

Will you be able to heal the bruise I received from the apples, they threw?

Can you make them wrinkle like the fruit with mould that’s been overdue?

They are the enemies that grow from the bullies’ yard

If I eat from them I will only be sick

Who will make me well, if I slip in the sewage of their clean water?

Lord why does my fears make time to torture my soul

And light a fire in the night in the corner

Can you reach me and get me out without the touch of their sight

Why do I still hear the laughter from my terror?

The tremble of my voice and the shaken of my legs keep them alive

Where can I find my strengths? 

In your closed fists.

Lord why do I wash myself clean in spirit and see my sheets stained with dirt

I may repent a thousand times but see no angel surround me

Every prayer I say I wait for a reply, kneeling all night for an answer

And when the mood hits me when I awake, I will get burnt by your rod

How long will my eyes be swollen, how long will it take to heal?

Why do I dream of running on water with a treadmill, far from the hill?

Running to the light but it always fades away.

Lord why can’t our spirits be close friends, I can’t keep standing in the distance, yelling out my prayers

My voice is tired and my ears hurt from my screaming echoes

But I will stand here in the cold, facing the back of your robe

Can I hope not in disappointment but in your beautiful presence?

Or will my sorrows burry me, past the graveyard and under the marbled alter?