Silence is a booming emptiness

Sunset Swim image by familymwr via Flickr CC


Do They Know?
By Jill Hasker

Silence is a booming emptiness –
stillness’ sheer weight and presence imposes and expands —
squeezing thoughts as words clang and clamor to be free

Words circle –
unwilling to coalesce
to relay heart depths, currents, soul swells
Words evade – bobbing in choppy waves

How can I convey?
music surrounds me,
reaches in with tendrils and slivers and shivers
‘til – finally home again – a single tear emerges

Do they know?
music’s magic melds and heals…
Joy enfolds sorrow –
both continue to exist –
but the golden glow fills edges, surrounds, gently embraces
and eventually peacefully subdues
the shiny, hard grey remnant

Dregs of dread drop as ashes swept away by shimmering moments of utter beauty.
New shoots emerge, freshly green
fragile durable
resilient unyielding
fleeting eternal

(They/it/we) are not
(gone/lost/empty) but
(replaced/sated/covered) with

What was done, shared, said, created is not void –
It endures.
And remembering – still holding it heart close –
our fingers brush this edge of eternity.

I wrote this poem in the wee hours this morning.  On Sunday afternoon, I got to hear the two choirs I used to accompany (for the last 6 or 7 years!) sing their fall concert.  I admit I had been dreading this first time just a little bit — hesitant to hear them sing without me.  I thought I would be swept back into the sadness and sorrow I felt when I said goodbye.  I worried for no reason, though.  Instead of sorrow — I was swept away by the sheer JOY of watching them sing and of listening to the soul stirring music they were making.

I shed one small tear near the very end, when the men’s choir started to sing “Bring Him Home” from Les Miz.

I felt a wave of healing and of gratitude for all that I had shared and experienced with these groups, with these people, in that very place (and in many others).  As I walked away from the hall, the words of a song we had performed ran through my head “Though much is taken, much abides.” (quote from Alfred Lord Tennyson)

I am left with the certainty that what we had and created still exists and that it WILL endure in my heart (and hopefully in theirs as well!).


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I am a pianist, musician, music teacher, choir director, mother, wife, daughter, sister, cousin, sister-in-law, friend, neighbor. I enjoy music (of course!), quilting, sewing, beading, traveling, kayaking, camping, biking, hiking, gardening, knitting, scrapbooking, cooking, reading, poetry, drinking good coffee, and having fun with family and friends. NOTE -- Creative Commons License: All work of The Tromp Queen (quirkyjazz, aka Jill) is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 4.0 Unported License.

4 thoughts on “Silence is a booming emptiness”

  1. Thank you for sharing this, yet another of those crossroads in life as we change and grow. You’re not so much leaving behind as moving toward something else, whose identity may not yet be known. Blessings to you…

  2. That’s a very lovely poem, and it stands well on its own. I thought when we talked that it would refer more to the music. It has a happy ending 🙂 and I love the way that music heals the speaker. ❤ You are very talented!!

    1. Thank you for your feedback. It seems like a very personal thing to share, so I wasn’t sure how it would sound to anyone. I really just wanted to get the words organized somehow to help me remember the emotions and realizations. Music is always there for me — so I guess I hear it where it isn’t sometimes. 😉 Thank you for ALWAYS being my loudest cheerleader, dear friend..

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