A Non-beating Heart

How quiet the soul holds still,

Its core feeling the energy roiling deep within.

Why does silence speak so clearly,

Imbuing the soaring eagle's wings with the quiet of sublime?

Do the petals of a rose

Sense the noiseless drinking at its roots?

Will the hush of tears in the nocturnal darkness

Know the buffeting nature of its origin?

Just as the silence between notes

Holds the key to all music,

So too the non-beating of one’s heart

Becomes the suspended ecstasy of hidden passion

The rapture of expectation

The hope for life to once again

Reveal its precious essence.