It’s the Saint of Silence
that holds my confessions
in a cloistered room
I profess my secrets
and blessings
It’s the Saint of Silence
to which I unfold
a manuscript held
untold, in a heap
I lay bare my fold, of secrets
It’s the Saint of Silence
that calls my soul to an altar
I lay bare, no bones, no blood
no fear to share, as tears run
like water’s song, holy sung
It’s the Saint of Silence
that bathes my spirit, whole
pages that hold a lifeblood
a breath behold, my verse rises
unto a testament, ensconced in gold.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
#Poetry #Saint #Silence #Freeverse
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