A certain birdsong in the silence


I was lost when you found me

standing next to the stairway

another path not yet discerned.



I remember the small girl spat upon by the roadside

the violence of men fearing innocence

little sense as my strength betrayed me.



It was fear that tore me

from what I had known

certain truths will cut the ties.



I remember the young woman in the headscarf

the flowers that she had bought

a lump in my throat as she handed them to me.



It was absence that drove me

toward a certain uncertainty

my rebellion finally overthrown.



I remember the old woman gentle in wisdom

her husband by the open door

as he sat and bade a silent welcome to me .



It is not wisdom and yet

I am content to sit and listen

birdsong beckoning in the silence.