The Brooding Silence

He sits there in silence and all alone

His hand reaches for the telephone

He hesitates like so many times before

Then rises slowly and walks out the door

He  knows he needs to make that call

But part of him does not want to, at all

He’s not sure if the number is correct

The old address book is faded and wrecked

It’s been so long since they have spoken

The bond they shared was so utterly broken

They shared some good times and some bad

Many happy memories and some so sad

Time is a great healer, or so they say

But it gets harder day by day

The mind can think of a hundred reasons not to

But you know that this is something only you can do

The days turn into weeks, while you still wait

Before you suddenly realize it’s getting too late 

The distance grows longer but you still hesitate

The silence gets louder, while you procrastinate

Weeks turn to months and soon becomes a year

The long deadly silence, increases the fear

The frustration, the sorrow and unshed tears

That empty hollow feeling, the worries and cares

Words left unspoken, while others can not be unsaid

Wounds left open and to fester instead 

Harsh words spoken in anger and in grief

Leaving hearts broken, in search of comfort and relief

We use words as weapons, some cut to the bone

We also use silence, to punish as hard as stone

But  we also have the power to heal and to reconcile 

To forgive and to seek forgiveness, to restore that smile.

So pick up the phone and make that call

Post that letter on the table in the hall

Take the first step on the road to reconciliation

Before it’s too late, not another moment of hesitation.

The phone rings sharply, he gets to his feet 

Slowly he answers and his heart skips a beat

Her voice on the line is familiar and clear 

“Hi Dad …how are you…..Has it really been a year ?

C Denis Murphy 13 August 2019.