In reply

Cristina De Miranda
Contributor
Something is lost – a fragment of a truth
when you bid I speak to you in reply.
Logic commands essence into half-truths,
and with regret I hang my head and sigh.
Why must we speak, my love? A poet may
be known for her words, but it is by cryptic laws
she lives – neither black nor white, but a muddy gray.
Void of speech, we hear the silent poet speak.
When you ask what I did think of your song,
words in reply would be limp as boughs in a stream.
Watch me as I stare into nothing too long,
and there in nothing, my response is foreseen:
In silence I speak the rarest of virtues;
Play it once more, and I will surely thank you.