The Virtue of Silence

I knew it was over
the day you told me
about the hike into the hills,
deep enough to find a cave
made for meditation

or if the sun shone
just right on the opening,
in the days that equal nights of the fall,
a place where you and I could strip down
to just our skin and merge
into that leaving light
and finally touch peace.

You said
you didn’t have time
to show your true face.
It wasn’t real enough for you
to take that risk in the shadows of faith.

The cave,
the place a womb could open
and birth pure love,
it is here you decided to take the path
another way home.

Though this heart couldn’t be any more shattered,
than it is tonight, a mirror always raises the pen
and puts words to the page
and writes an oath to the self.

I will not be the crumbs
you leave along the rocky way
to find your way back
to this longing.

If I am lucky
I’ll find my own cave soon,
crawl inside her warmth
and heal the hurts of all humanity.
Here there is no betrayal of hope
in the face of a deeper calm,
the tremors of kindness abounding.

You will shake the memory of me
from your weary travel clothes.
The virtue of this silence will save us all.