Succor of Peace

There is a silence
Behind all the clutter
The busy-ness
That remains
The way the last blush
Of light stains western skies
On the down-going of the sun.

I hurry toward the hush
Needing the quietude
The way lovers need
The kiss
The co-mingling
Of affection.

It is not the absence
Of sound
As much as it is
The presence
Of peace
The presence
Of gentleness
The presence
Of dignity
Needing no assurance
But being that assurance.

The child finds it
In its mother’s arms
The lover
In love’s embrace.

You may find it
Between the notes
Of the best opus
Or between the words
Of masterful speeches.

Silence waits patiently
Unhurried
Knowing the time is coming
For its grand entrance
When it will be all that remains.

Until that time
I listen to the quiet
As succor of peace.