The turn of a knob

The turn of a knob                                                                                      

I hold my tongue (as You suggested

through the silence of a lifetime)

and meet You in that immeasurable space

where real things are exchanged.

Even in these raw, preliminary stages,

I’m allowed through that door

where at the turn of a knob

I’m greeted by Your silence.

There to listen instead of barter,

quiescent rather than seeking,

immobile instead of on the prowl,

humble instead of scheming –

o Lord, I am the silence I listen to.

You are the silence I listen to.

We mingle there as one –

as I mutely place my hand in Yours.

O child of God, continue with your raucous verses.

Meher’s silence contains all sound.