She could hear a pin drop,
not bated breath held fast
against a muffled hush, nor poised forms
stilling every muscle in suspense.
No... Audible silence echoes,
ricocheting around the void,
empty of all but soundlessness..
Not a soul around.
Approaching the part in the play
when the least of them steps up
and clears her throat,
the possibility of being heard remote,
she leans into the microphone. Hello?
Where did everyone go?
Machines rumble, squealing
metal on metal at a vast distance.
The floor judders under her feet
as though a bullet train passes below.
Going where? she wonders.
Buzzing energy flickers and surges.
Small hairs on the backs of her arms
stand up, quivering mini antennae.
She fumbles the proverbial dial,
tries to fine-tune. Feels plugged-in.
But to what? Perhaps
leaving her mouth open
words will pour forth
and meaning radiate out in waves.
With no one to interpret,
how will she know she's said anything?
Hello? Is anybody out there?
Lines of a hymn as a girl she loved to sing
come to her lips suddenly pressing:
something about a child and king,
joy and exultation. She knows
only the refrain, but it's enough to fill
emptiness with confident expectation.
Quavering voice steadies as she sings,
gaining in depth and strength,
and into the great silence projecting.