Silence is the thought that screams beneath my skin.
It is my loudest prayer,
The only thing I’m good at…
It echoes in my throat and spurs a gentle wave across my tongue…
I’ve spoken it farther than any sound could ever dream to go.
Can you hear it?
Can you feel it?
As it resonates from my deepest core…
I can hear it,
I can feel it…
As it clothes my body from mind to soul.
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Comments about this poem (Crescendo by Brenda Arroyo )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
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- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Inspiration, Henry David Thoreau
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- And Death Shall Have No Dominion, Dylan Thomas
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep, Mary Elizabeth Frye
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