poem 001

Will there be enough silence? 1

If lost the world be lost to us,
If spent, the spent word is left unheard,
If unheard, the word lays unsaid,
Unsaid and unheard, the world is silence unbroken.
Stillness fills the unspoken word,
Voided and unheard, no word without a word,
Without a world the word rests within,
The world turned both light and dark,
By the word let go amidst the whirl,
Pinned about the centre of the silence that be.
The spark to which we harken.

1 One of my many rough plagiarisms; this time of part V’s beginning in T. S. Eliot’s Ash-Wednesday, 1930.