This poem is about secrets: Not ones you feel you have to keep out of fear or pain, but the ones you want to keep, ones that sharing would result in some personal, irretrievable loss. Not all secrets are bad. Some exist inside us like a hidden oasis in the desert. They are our source, a wellspring. Tell the wrong person and it may just disappear. But other people can’t help being curious at times. They can sense something is there, they just can’t put a finger on it. Maybe you’ll want to share it with them someday, maybe not. Either way, the choice should remain your own.

The Silence

Here I am
Breaking through;
Walls fall down,
Crumbling doubt, fear
Like dried leaves
Under my foot.

But I cling
Tethered still
To one true knot
Choosing never to untie,
Never let it go
Unraveled.

Keeping it close
Bound up,
Instead of pain
Makes me whole again;
Unites my spirit
Means safety.

Picked apart
Released,
Chaos follows
Like night from day;
I would go with it
Into nothing.

Leave me be,
Let me hold it
Sacred, unknown
No more questions;
In my silence
Lies freedom.