I’m thinking of that first meeting
How many years ago? Too many to recount
When after an eternity of silence,
You spoke, having recognized the unrecognizable—
My silent depth.
You felt me as no one had before.
And relayed how the German poet Rilke reminded you of me
How beautiful and strange that years later
As I sit down to write, these memories surface,
Memories foretelling a future unimaginable:
Today, as I pick up my pen to write,
That silent depth rises to meet the page.
Oh invisible, voiceless, nameless self,
Who could have imagined your beauty, your glory?
Who could have anticipated the commanding power of your presence?
Were it not for those words,
This depth might still be hidden.
Rise, oh depths, out of the ashes.
Be like the words spoken amidst silence
Invoking life out of death,
Naming what is visible only to the searching heart.
Fear not the manifestation of your presence,
For your goodness is unmistakable, incalculable, indestructible.
Burn, and you will grow brighter,
Fail and you will stand bolder,
Fall and your depths will rise higher.
The silent void once tormenting has transfigured—
Behold, the light of my presence.
The Unspeaking Center 