Silence

I need silence to listen,
to feel the images
just out of reach that

linger like a perfume
around me, this scent of
another world beyond

our fingertips,
the way a barnacle on a rock
might sense the wave

in the water flushing its shell.
I need silence to taste
the mysteries that hover

in the coffee, the world
it took to grow the beans,
the sun that dances

on my tongue, the soil,
the tropical winds that
brought the rain and

teased the berries to flower.
I need silence to know I'm alive,
to be this quivering

protoplasmic antenna with a name
and an imbedded hunger and
a DNA programmed for love.


© Zen Oleary
November 15, 2004