POETRY: A Night Visitor by Brother Paul Quenon

A Night Visitor by Brother Paul Quenon

A grey cloud cover
hides the moon blanketing light
as night grows lonely.

My ears are stifled
by the crush of my own thoughts
’til silence says: Hush.

These ears are windows
Opening on quiet night
where my soul can breathe.

If I could reach out
to touch this fragile silence
she would shy away.

She offers presence,
not familiarity,
to my calloused hand.

Close as my own breath,
though my mind be far away,
precious as a prayer.

Rare is the moment
when, with nothing on my mind,
I hear her passage,

subtle as a sigh.

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