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Blend of Ink Spirit

Even in Silence

I fear only silence. Let the carriages screech their brakes toward me on a track of steel, let the lion roar before me like prey, send storms raging through my home, let a bullet whistle past my ear. Just do not fall silent. Leave me a whistle and distant breaths, a cricket chirping in the bush, the brush of butterfly wings, words— leave me words, wonders of wandering words, like explorers of distant lands. Words— leave them to me, even in silence.

About this poem

This poem was originally written in Hebrew. To see the Hebrew version, click here.

לשאת את המילים האלה