I DID NOT COME TO YOU TO TALK ABOUT SILENCE

I did not come to you to talk about silence.

Life stirs and bubbles in me,
bringing anxiety in my joy
and hope in my need.

I did not come to you to talk about silence.

The quietude of night and stars suffices me.
There are mute landscapes in my look.
And, deaf, I continue to dream.

I did not come to you to talk about silence.

Words know too well my mazes.
Nothing arises without the obscure desire
of shade disintegrating into the light.

I did not come to you to talk about silence.

It is implicit, for here am I, bare,
before you, without artifices or magic,
assuming myself in these words of love.

© Jean-Pierre Barakat