The Silence of Love
Love rarely arrives to the sound of trumpets and drums
Nor does it storm ashore with the shouts of conquest
Love chooses how it presents itself, for that is its way
Sometimes it enters like dusk, a gradual softening of memories
That hush laid tenderly, tucked into the corners of the world
The sacred silence, tis one that belongs only to lovers
Connections known to one other long before the remembering
So complete is that stillness, that it conjures the ancient feelings
As if two stars, long separated by wandering centuries
Finally crossed back into the same dark cradle of sky
We have met in other seasons, other lands, other worlds
In temples carved from limestone and longing
In forests where the air tasted of moss and prophecy
In cities built of salt pillars and stone, where truth became rumor
You were the stranger whose eyes held a map of me within
I was the ache in your chest, a face without a name
Across a thousand lifetimes and a thousand worlds
We have passed like hands, carelessly brushing in a marketplace
Like two shadows, growing longer and finally touching at sundown
Some lives were special, our souls granted a whole life together
We shared bread, shared grief, shared the soft collapse of old age
Other times ‘twas but a glance, a breath suspended between heartbeats
Yet no matter the time, or the place, it was always enough
Because love, when it is true, does not require noise
Love does not beg to be proven, does not carry the need to prove
It moves beneath the skin like a hidden mystical river
Timelessly shaping and polishing the stone of who we are
When we stand together as one, the world seems to lower its voice
The wind bends the trees closer, the hours forget their urgency
There is no need for a contract inked in silver on a tablet of gold
For our souls have already signed the parchment of eternity
When you are silent, your breath all that I can hear
I hear the echo of our first moment together, our beginning
In mine, you recognizing the promise of my return, each and always
We speak in glances, tiny gestures that speak volumes
Lifetimes found in the sacred pause between inhale and exhale
Our love creates its own gravity to keep us from drifting on a cosmic cloud
What we share is not fire, neither is it flame, but ember
The steady warmth that survives winter after winter, lifetime after lifetime
It glows beneath ruin, seeks rebirth when none seems possible
Remembers that separation only means the finding will happen again
And after the long dance of evening calls, and this life loosens its hold
When time chooses to once again fold us back into life anew
Neither shall we fear the separation, for we’ve journeyed this path afore
For the secret of forever love resides deep within our souls
Silence is not absence, it is the language of souls
The language of two who have loved each other
Since before there were words to call it love
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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