Silence And Silver Poem by Sonny Rainshine

Whoever said silence
is golden must have been mistaken.
It seems silver to me, or mercurial
like the substance in thermometers;
it’s volatile and on the move.

It is precious but not priceless
like gold bullion or nuggets
sparkling in a pristine spring.
Against the golden voice
of a newborn baby or the jeweled
caress of a lover’s hand
it seems tarnished,
an alloy, but incomplete.

Silence and sound,
silver and gold,
music, meditation.
Sometimes it’s the caesura
that makes the poem whole.