A reluctant tongue (silence day)
I wish, at times, I could go the rest of my life
uttering not a word, only essential,
handwritten notes to preserve
not my silence but, my solitude.
There's safety in solitude.
It's so wearisome - at times - the vigilance,
tolerating any other's presence.
We embrace as the waltz begins.
I try to follow the music;
my body fails to cooperate.
My knees stiffen. Poise deserts me.
I clump along praying for the song to end.
How often I have prayed
to be different than I am.
The angel at the gate, (answers my Lord),
is on the lookout
for a slim, timid man
with bum knees and a reluctant tongue.
O child of God, play the part as written.
Every element serves the plot.