Silent Man, Holy Man

Sad summer rain, trickle droplets – window pane

he walks away in silence, angry man – how insane.

nonsense of thought his brain is blank, he never explains.

piercing the mortar prison wall is all for naught; in vain.

She bows her head in sadness…an overwhelming grief

the funeral is over; the ceremony brief

she turns to him for comfort and seeks from him-relief

he says not a word—without even a belief

That he can say what helps to heal the overwhelming loss

without a word nor gesture, from him to come across

nor even look of helplessness in her direction does he toss

no one dares his retreating stride to accost.

Where does he go and might do, and will he ever say?

Unmovable man, in soulful silence in the light of day…

Oppressing thoughts of helplessness on his mind does lay

He wanders to a country church and wanders in to pray.

“Oh, my Father, guide me please…I’m losing Faith and Trust;

my feelings are raw, my soul is numb-others say that I’m unjust

my heart has silently cried so long, it surely is almost rust

You fling at me the sorrows, to me many tests you thrust.”

“I’m at a loss, I cannot find the comfort for those I love.

I cannot give myself permission to reach out to those thereof,”

God said to him, “go in peace, My Son, with Your Lord above,

I will soften your soul with the guidance of a dove.”

“Be gone now, my man,” He said, and spoke to him no more.

The silent man returned to Life to settle up the score

“You’ve changed!” folks said, “not so hard-core.”

With his wife and friends he found a rapport…

Years later did he on a country road rove

He stopped and knelt in a shaded grove

“Dearest Lord,” prayed he, “I never found your dove.”

“You did,” replied God, “in your heart you found self-love.”

Copyright © April 2003 Amy L. Allison