Today seemed like a day I should be silent.
The silence seemed so absolute, every small sound
reverberating intensely.
My annoying voice would shatter such a perfect peace.
Perhaps a song.
If a song were to break out over this lake,
causing ripples in its surface,
clear and bright, that might be acceptable.
The silence their audience,
a brilliant song.

I wish it so, but I know my voice has not that song,
and in thinking so I find I've lost it altogether.
So I sit back, a supportive member of the audience.

So step up; we're listening.
We silenced wait for your beautiful lucid song.
Someone to save us from the silence we trapped ourselves in,
afraid to break perfection.
Someone to tell us that imperfection is something that's okay.

Your song can rescue us.
Your voice can come and let us sing again.
Let your music ring across this silence.
We'll rise up, a chorus of flaws, and be beautiful.
Set us free.
Sing.