The Silence and the Fury

Silence.
It falls quickly, quietly,
an elusive prey
in a culture priding itself
on do-this-get-that-turn-this-on-
noise,
the buzzing and whirling and whining
that is antithematic with
the chriping and blowing and splashing
movement of the wild outside --
or maybe antitheological,
this noise.
Silence
is a harder music to grasp,
and in the grasping
we lose the melody.
Maybe rather it is a predator
and we the prey,
and it grabs ahold of us,
and that is why we run
like zebras from savannah lions,
the multitasking, gadgetry-stripes
our only noisy defense
against its viscous and furious fangs.
Because when silence sinks in,
the ego is defleshed,
self-importance shattered
like illusory smoke-and-mirrors,
the bones of independence and self-protection
that we have used to stand alone
crushed to bits of sharded waste.
This is what silence does,
this not-so-silent killer.
We must have it to save our souls
and not seek to save ourselves
from its violent intention
to bring us face-to-face
with the Wild, Wonderful Creator-God,
this heart of furious love,
and His still, small voice
that whispers through the noise
the highest music.
To hear it, we must have
silence.

-Brian Fidler