Truth be told
Truth be told, my Master was silent.
Truth be told, silence was the essence
of His message. O, He promised
on numerous occasions to speak
the Word of words -- some forty-odd years
but nary a word He left us -- no goodbye,
no parting wisdom, trading one silence for another.
Such is our dilemma, o lovers, in telling others
of His silence and His broken promises,
of our fascination with the One
Who refused to be glib, pedantic,
predictable in the Truth; Who spoke
somehow beyond throat and ear, beyond
forced and roughly shaped sounds.
I suggest we must, in the end,
resort to our own brand of silence
and pray Truth be told, His Truth --
in all its palpable, wordless splendor --
be told, be told, be told within each
God-conscripted, fatefully chosen breast.
O child of God, your job is to love Him.
His job is everything else.