Oh, that silence! That which so intensifies my pain.
Silence drives me to search for a voice that brings comforting reassurance and understanding to a heart that cannot speak. A voice of one who knows the pain of too much love and too much brokenness. A voice of one who understands the human heart with all its potential for light and darkness. This voice I listen for will speak like a slow in-coming wave, with its powerful and majestic thunder-like peace.
It will say:
Speak and withhold nothing.
Speak clearly of that which lies so heavy upon your heart.
Speak, and I will listen, intently and thoughtfully.
Do not hold back, but speak - you who are like a broken arrow,
that you may once again pierce through the impossible.
That you may fly with precision and purpose through that infinite distance
for which you have been created.
Speak, though your chin may quiver as the forces are loosened and the dams are broken.
Speak, oh broken arrow, that you may land in that which has found its purpose in you.
Oh, let that deep wound heal now!
Let your weeping voice pour out;
Let each drop of those tears fill the hollow spaces that your wound has brought to light. May those spaces feel the warmth of your tears
As they penetrate through the driest barriers,
And let its salt become as a healing ointment, filling all empty spaces with understanding and love.
Speak!
Withhold not your deepest of thoughts.
For if you withhold even one thought,
it awaits again, in a silent reservoir
Filling it with your tears as your heart weeps once more,
For it has no place to go but deeper within you,
Making still deeper and wider those empty spaces.
Speak therefore!
Find your long-awaited peace!
Speak now.
The silence of another matters no longer.
Man’s understanding and wisdom are limited.
The arts of love and forgiveness are rare.
Fear no longer those who reject you and scoff at you.
I have heard your cry.
I have seen your tears.
Fear no longer those who want to hurt you.
They cannot.
Now, let your heart speak,
I have come to comfort you.
~Viola M. Jaynes
March 2008
