The House is Quieter Now
The house is quieter now, not the soft kind of quiet that comes with nightfall
But the hollow quiet, the empty quiet of something missing from the world
A reminder of times passed, good times, gentler times filled with joy
Now an emptiness fills that sacred space, one that goes beyond the senses
The spaces remain the same, imagery of where your spent your sleeping hours
Perhaps your ghost holding space before the memories fade of your shape
It is true that it shall remain without disturbance, a silent memorial of what was
There, but no longer there, it’s something that time has no solution for
Silence waits on the precipice of the future, and the air found thick with respect
Moments of truth, whispering echoes of heavy paws across the hardwood floors,
Sounds of heavy breathing as you bounced into a room, joyfully and lively
Your companions know something is different, something permanent has changed
Puddles still remain around your water bowl, and that bone long forgotten
The afternoon sun even knows of the change, as it falls across the floorboards
Warms that forever barren spot in the yard where you refused to stop digging
In your eyes that spot was your throne, yours and yours along to stand claim to
There’s a strange silence at the fence line, those on the other aide sense it too
No longer are you on patrol, the perimeter always safe on your forever watch,
And even as you struggled, tired joints and aching limbs could not hold you back
You were driven by a higher power, something cast between endless loyalty and love
Suspecting that tonight will be a hard night, the absence of your heavy breathing
Your presence on the bedroom floor, only stirring to share commerce with the night air
You were content just to be near us, no need to be too close, just close enough
Now, we face the void of emptiness, finding something to fill the unfillable space
Life will go on, that’s what they always say, but going on in a different way
The fabric of our lives, our children’s lives, our grandchildren’s lives will change
A tear in the fabric of our family, where the weaves unraveled, and will never be mended
We keep going, but always with the sense that the world is less alive,
A world less forgiving, one less full of wonder and joy without you here
You were our guardian, our good boy, our quiet companion, our reminder to love simply
And though you are gone, the absence of you fills every heart and every room
Additional Reading
R.J. (Ralph) Schwartz is an American poet, author, website owner, and online publisher. His writing spans several poetry collections—ranging from spiritual and romantic to fear-driven explorations—and even extends into science fiction. Notable works include:
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Hope – Inspirational and Spiritual Poetry
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Things That Go Bump in the Night – Poetry of Fear and Fright
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The Lover’s Thread – Poetry for Couples
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Poetry of the Human Condition – The Ups and Downs of Modern Living
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The Secrets of the Moon (a sci-fi novel co-authored with his son Sebastian J. Schwartz)
Schwartz’s work is described as purposefully wordy, richly descriptive, and thematically grounded in nature, romance, antiquity, and forgotten histories. He writes regularly on platforms he manages, including The Creative Exiles, a collaborative venue for writers, and The Gypsy Thread, which delves into offbeat histories, pagan lore, and poetry.
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