Silence

No—this is not sufficient. In this silence let the previous silence lie in bough and root, through the stale air, feel the ambivalence of an unwritten word. And while doubt temperatures the colors with a rare ascension, let the bell toll all eternity in song, and I speak to the petals. My voice feels invested only among flowers. In all reps have I found that my tones break, drowning inside lilies, defeating understanding, with the occasional murmur from trees, and out of this world view, the thorns will pierce.

• Marianne Moore