Silence Part 1: Half of all Available Space

Today, she will have gone on being

a tetrahedron in a world of circles.

Right now, she is folding the day

into thirds, making a kimono, serving tea

and searching for the right phrases

in two languages.

 

It is certain that she got a little lost

and scared today. As every day. She was

misunderstood, today. Someone surely

told her she was wrong, today:

The incorrect thoughts. Skin. Emotions.

Reactions. Words. Context. Accent.

Aspiration. Politics.

 

She will have sent messages of love

to two men, today- one with whom

she has shared her body; one with

whom she has not. Only one of the

two, will respond. She has learned

not to take everything, personally.

But sometimes, she still does.

 

She will have seen things today of

great beauty, and profound ugliness. She

has observed without speaking, mapped

interior landscapes, drawn conclusions.

She will want to share all of this

inside someone’s heart space.

But she will sleep alone, tonight.

 

The kimono she makes is a shroud

of loneliness. A soul aches in memory

of a half lifetime of lost things- hard

decisions, mistakes, over-reactions,

misconceptions. Broken promises.

Small daily insults, by self, by others.

She blames herself each time.

One third the good of the day, one third

the mediocre, one third everything she

has done wrong.

 

That last third often takes up more

then half of all available space.

She cannot ever form all the words 

there are to be said. In the ensuing silence,

it is easy to think

she has nothing important

to say.

Author's Note

Our writer's group has monthly themes, and for June, it is"silence." I was inspired to write this piece when I attended a friend's poetry presentation on the use of poetry to give voice to the migrant. I imagne this work will have three parts. This is the first.

The original was published in Spanish, and can be found here: http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/zorra_encantada/1926927/

Picture is my own from a trip to the woods in PA where I grew up.

Reviews

[Ken Simm.]

You amaze me constantly. you raise the pole even higher with every write. I can only stand an observe in amazement. Wonderful.

[Marie Anzalone]

I am trying to lern to push more boundaries in my work. I was afraid in the past to put too much of myself into my poems, and I am slowly trying to release that fear, one skipped pebble across the universe at a time. Maybe one day, I wil get it right. Until then, I am so grateful to you for the constant inspiration. You keep me going when I do not think it is possible to do any more.