How Silence Feels Like Thunder

by John Herlihy

How can it be that silence feels like thunder,

Filled with thunder as silent fills a room.

We ask not that silence feels like wonder,

Sweeping our minds of residue with its trusty broom.

Why do we call it silence when nothing is there?

The silence of falling snow, the quiet of an empty cave.

Nothing that is audible, we listen and simply stare.

We hear nothing only smell the incense in a church nave.

Why do we forget the crashing sound of an organ cord

and marvel at the silence heralded in with a faint hum?

Why do we hear the forlorn cry of a distant night train, 

But remember the silent echo of an untouched drum?

Guilty! The court judge strikes the gavel upon solid wood.

Silence buries a court sentence deep in the convict’s ears.

Utter silence follows the exhalation of one's last breath,

Eternal silence that signifies the arrival of certain death.

The breath we breathe is as silent as the air is invisible.

A hair line lies between silence and breath indivisible.

Such silence, such breath, that we cannot live without.

Indeed, a thin line so audible, it can be heard as a shout.

If one’s heart be now broken, it cannot be unbroken.

If silence hopes to remain silent, it cannot be spoken.

Sweet anticipation lies in the confines of an unrung bell.

The untouched drum holds secrets that it will never tell.

We never question the value of silence when spoken.

We need only listen to hear the whispers laid bare.

Moments of silence as drops of stillness to betoken

Silence that accompanies our holy aspirations of prayer.

Where the silence if we speak to God with emotion?

Will God break silence and speak to us directly in kind?

Surely not, we keep silent our heads bowed in devotion.

We listen – listen silently, as soft whispers enter the mind

What perfection that such a thing as silence can even exist.

There in outer space or here on earth, silence will persist.

At ease in the inner sanctum, where no one else can roam,

Just me - myself and God - mutual silence we together own.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Monday 5 January 2026