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The Mystery of Silence at Noon in rural areas, when no bird sings. What is this Elemental Energy that grips us? Is it the sacred power of the Angelus bell, now long stilled, for we live in a secular age."But no-one has told the birds that God is dead."
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Silence at NoonOlder than knowing or unknowingThis held breathTells us that we are mortalThat we are sacredThe answer to no known question
Silence at NoonNails us down senselessUncomprehendingA sacrament in another languageBeyond our graspDense with meaning With implications for our dwindled stateWe can no longer hear
Silence at NoonWe know not who we areOr whyUnderstanding has left usThe tide gone outAnd we are strandedUnfinished IncompleteSwamped by Eternity
Silence at NoonUnpeopled streets and empty skiesA shred of light fidgets an oak-leafBut nothing moves
Silence at NoonFor seven hundred years the Angelus bellFlooded the fields and woodsLifting the labourer’s face to heaven Emptying skies and putting the birds to bedAnd now we live in a secular ageThis elemental energy holds us stillFor no-one has told the birds that God is dead.
(from THE FRUIT THAT BITES BACK copyright E. J. Ward 2015)
