As the heart breaks
we might imagine
the sound escapes
any ability to hear it.
We almost do:
that cut off cry,
that intake of breath,
that crack in our fundament.
Incomplete —
what of the rest?
Where it goes,
that absent noise,
that sudden posit,
I think we know.
We yearn,
don’t we,
as a coin is tossed
in a pit so deep
we never hear it land —
as much as we
might want to —
but we know
it lands
nonetheless,
[sc name="ad-300x600"]
too far to return,
a sound
beyond
measure,
a wish upon
Gd’s ear.
What’s more quiet
than the absence
of faith?
What ever
can be
as loud?
