The Paintings of Silence

The Paintings of Silence
Silence is a demon of images opening my window
to a collage of fears, dreams to be doubted.
One isn’t thinking of me; the friendship shows
its face a garden whose flowers haven’t sprouted.
One is waiting to call me on the phone,
but the minute hand uncoils the feelings
into piles of uncertainty; I am left alone,
nervously eying the damp spots on the ceiling.

Another cries unashamed into stronger arms,
and I wish I could cry like that, free to choose
the release of emotion, an innocent charm.
Or that I had the strength that others use
and call upon in times of loneliness or need;
these demons wouldn’t torment me then.
Angels are the encounters planting seeds
for music to grow, painting over my world again.

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This poem I wrote thinking of how silence at times makes you doubt. Not only silence, but the implied absence of anyone around. Loneliness. I liked the concept of silence being a demon of images, because though we often associate silence, with sound, I believe it true that in those moments, the images that come are more vivid, more real. In some ways, they are more believable, and it's harder to escape. But others can help us; we can help each other. Yay! Hope you enjoy the poem.