Ode to Silence

Silence is the language of love, they say;
Love that is too profound for that mere word.
Love that cannot be formed in one day,
But is permitted by Silence to be heard.

You are the language of joy, the whiteness of peace
That people ignorantly decipher as hate;
A word that is harsher than an ax on trees,
Or a war that is refused to abate.

You live a life of seclusion and respect,
And give to them who love you much,
More love than they could ever expect,
And inner peace in a single touch.

In appearance you are soft and frail,
Like a white sheet of winter snow, thought
To be liable to destruction in a single gale,
But itself has many times destruction brought.

You are the peace that is longingly desired
By men whose hearts are troubled and astray.
You are the abode where men may retire
When the night of death replaces the day.