I Fall Silent

Dear Moon Sisters,

I am writing to say hello.

To say that I am here. 

I fall silent sometimes,

When I feel too much and

Have no words to say

No words that are enough 

To convey what I really want to

So I fall silent. 

Instead of words

I want to weep with you my sisters

Each of you, individually, collectively

I have been feeling this longing to weep and rage together. 

I can’t do it alone, I pop myself into a not-feeling-so-much space and that me thinks it is a silly idea and not a good use of time. 

But it’s still all stuck underneath

And it still oozes out somehow 

The longing keeps returning, so I am sharing it with you, 

my sweet sisters. 

Know that each of your stories

Continues to undulate in my body, 

in my cells. 

I might almost say, 

haunt me. 

I feel so close to you it scares me, 

Mostly it’s the relief and sadness

Of returning home when you have 

Been away too long. 

Weeping not only to dwell together 

in the grief of everything 

that has happened 

And happens 

But also weeping to cleanse 

Weeping to reach the laughter underneath

Weeping so our tears can carry 

And birth Our dreams

Weeping to Celebrate how strong 

we are, 

weeping and Jubilant of how far we have come 

That we are still here

Trusting that our fire cannot die.

(That our story unfolds miraculously despite ourselves) 

When I fall silent,

May I surrender, gently 

into what wants to come through 

May I learn to celebrate 

When I fall silent