The Silence of No Words

Author’s Note: I sat on this post in my poetry journal for a while. I don’t know how to explain why. I have FB “friends” from all walks of life, and some of them are dealing with things I can’t begin to fathom or form a coherent solution to. And I admit that some of what I wrote is projection — I’m trying to guess at what the person feels. I apologize if this hits too close to home for some of you; please know I’m not trying to inflict pain, but rather analyze and describe it so that others far wiser than I can learn how to help bring healing.


I’m a writer. It’s what I do.
And yet there are moments —
Huge, gigantic, important moments —
Moments when words fail.

I serve the Author and Finisher of Faith
Or I claim to,
And yet I have no words.

  • For the mom burying an over-bullied child, dead by his own hand
  • For the dad devastated by the rape of a daughter, who now struggles with sullied worthlessness
  • For the club member given a death sentence by the “C” word
  • For the writer getting his 13th pink slip, rejecting every offspring word and idea he’s written
  • For the man accused of being gay because he prefers cooking and writing instead of drinking and watching sports
  • For the lesbian adrift and disconnected with no words to describe the isolation and disconnection she feels
  • For the man with a mentally ill partner whose meds no longer work
  • For the man-child whose grades just aren’t good enough, watching friends going away to college while he stays home, left behind by neurology and technology and money

I just have no words.
Silence is uncomfortable.
Life is uncomfortable.

How can you be a witness to the Creator
When the words, the ideas, the solutions haven’t been created yet?

And still, somehow, maybe
In the still silence
Will be shown
Will be seen
Will be shared


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