• September 5, 2013
en

The Silence that Sings (Poem and Video)

By Jessica Morley, on the beauty dis­cov­ered during her recent mis­sion in El Salvador.

Rusty rails, beaten wood, garbage, muck and chickens,
enclosed sandwich-style by two snakes of shambles and shacks –
the kind of place that is passed by all too quickly,
because if you stop to really look, to really see,
you are invited to enter within its disorder –
to step into a slow, silent revolution.
Poverty has a strange sort of swagger –
one step in pits you ready to bolt,
but a few steps closer and you dimly begin to realize
that to be consecrated in truth means to make that muck your own.
Sometimes, silence is heard in this place –
an angsty silence that screams through the colors
of military guards, bone-thin dogs, tattoos of gang allegiance,
contaminated water, infidelity, absent parents and hands unheld.
This type of silence spirals into desperation.
But another silence also springs from this place,
a silence of heart that sings a faithful entry
into the mercy born of joy and sorrow.
This silence begins with a face.
Mario Alejandro, Adrianna, Jessica, Leslie…
each one of you!
You have taught me something of the gaze of God,
the gaze of our God who looks upon each of us
with the utmost delight.
And so, in this place
of rusty rails, beaten wood, garbage, muck and chickens,
I have encountered the treasure of eternity;
I have met a gaze of delight, a gaze anointing my soul
with freedom’s stirring touch.
To read the whole poem and discover each of these faces through which “silence begins,” click here
To “listen to their silence”, watch this video:

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