tears come in the quiet

quiet, hush.

the magical stillness of a starry night,
the silent awe of sacred ceremony,
the look between lover and beloved
pushes down the words and invites wonder.

but no, not that quiet,
not that hush.

a break from the bustle that characterized
her days. forced rest. long hours of quiet.
she anticipated cries, but not hers.
arms intended to comfort now empty.

the hush of
quiet sadness.

days peppered with friends,
but quiet sadness served as the main course.
surrounded by quiet she heard things before
muffled if they sounded at all.

hush, listen.

the breeze brushes the sheers
as the wind brings them to life. footsteps
crunch the gravel under the mailbox,
and the post lid creaks before its filling.

hush, there's more
to hear.

pattering rain suddenly shifts
to pounding hail just for a moment.
distant thunder rolls and the
leaves shiver in anticipation.

listen.

her chatter belies the undercurrent
of pain. in the quiet when she
cannot speak, the lost creek
emerges fuller than she knew.

quiet yourself.

in this clearing, don't rush ahead.
all space needs not filling.
for tears come in the quiet,
and there is beauty here.

hush.