A Man Once Named Silence

He would often sit in the gray shadows of the winter’s day.

Alone and confused about all things and silence was his name.

The cold dark rain fell like steel pellets from the uncaring sky above.

And he would watch in his namesake the silence until he had enough.

He lived now in a wordless un-sounding world wrought of fate.

He pined away in this silent world; a world void of sound and light.

Never thinking beyond today, not thinking at all.

Then one day he ventured out from his self-imposed tomb.

And upon his deck still fresh from last summers paint.

He searched his heart and wondered if in tomorrow he could find room.

It was then that a small and delicate butterfly landed gently upon his shoulder

She whispered softly in his ear; She whispered words of life, never once speaking of fear.

Soon the man called silence would walk out on the deck each and every day.

He would walk out amidst ever brightening skies just to hear what the butterfly would say.

Weeks curtsied into months and the sun now shone ever so bright.

The gardens of dark winter now bloomed glorious in a different light.

Each day the man once called silence would with the butterfly joyfully speak.

He would speak of new dreams; he would talk of endless tomorrows.

At last sound had returned to his world that was once silent and full of sorrows.

His world was alive and he could hear the birds sing.

He could hear the laughter of his butterfly

as she would gently brush against him with her wings.

So now if you seek to find this man named silence.

You will not find him anywhere around.

For he and his butterfly are on a sandy beach

Filled with the joys of life, the words of love

And the golden pleasure of living life newly found.

• Note….The man once named silence owes much to that little butterfly

Who on a cold winter’s day whispered words of life into a world without sound and showed him through tender heart that tomorrow really is another day.

J. Allen Wilson © 5/31/2009…Full moon productions 7/7/2009