Listening to Silence

when i was young i was told
god was maker
of everything that has been,
everything that is,
everything that will be.

i was told then to pray
for his still voice,
his comforting words of hope,
comforting wisdom,
comforting love for me.

i listened in silence
for any word.
so anxious i was to hear,
anxious to perceive,
anxious for belonging.

in silence i heard naught
but my own sigh,
disappointed, no answer,
disappointed, still,
disappointed, grieving.

so pretending to hear
some small still voice
i bowed down with the others,
bowed down just in case,
bowed down for parents' praise.

trying with each prayer to
feel his presence,
i felt only my sadness,
felt my tears falling
as hours turned to days.

i did what i was told
for all those years.
yet those years were not wasted.
they gave me wisdom,
time to think, time to feel.

now grown and on my own,
my life is full.
i have a world around me,
a world i can touch,
not imagined, but real.

without belief in some
fictional god,
i still have life before me,
a life with purpose,
with vision and with choice.

i've listened to silence
and found for it
two uses (among others),
to stay quiet in,
or to fill with my voice.