Silence

Silence

Quiet, distant laughing, and gentle chimes ringing,
blue sky and softly swaying trees,
the ocean breeze and the fragrance of forty spring times,
and in the midst of all of this,
one sharp and immensely sad thought,
like silence.

Silence.
That's not the usual response for a question asked,
a request given,
an affectionate word spoken.

You are a quiet shadow on our house.
An impalpable presence, 
sometimes like a heavy, smothering blanket,
or a sound-proof booth.
Shadows don't talk - they loom.

I refuse to accept this as normal.
"It's what teenagers do.  It's the way
they are."
No.
I don't buy that.

In times past, in the heat of conflict I asked
"what have I done to shut you out?"
Or I would plead in my calmest and most controlled voice,
"What can I do to draw you close?"
Your reply: "nothing!"

Aaahhh!  Is there no way I can get at an answer?
Is there ever going to be a time when
we can communicate like close, loving people?
That is what I crave.  This desire consumes me. 
Like a crazy and unpredictable pendulum
I swing back and forth between
sadness, anger, frustration, grief.

I am sad when I can't share a life with you.
I am angry when you shut me out as if I mean nothing to you.
I am frustrated by my own futile attempts to communicate.
I am grieving the passing of time and the fear that one day,
as a bone that broke once, but never set right,
our relationship will never have a chance to heal properly,
but will shoot perpetual streaks of pain when stressed or tested in the slightest.

Quiet, distant laughing, and gentle chimes ringing,
blue sky and softly swaying trees,
the ocean breeze and the fragrance of forty spring times,
and in the midst of all of this,
one sharp and immensely sad thought,
like silence.