the accident,
the death.
Of a coworker,
a friend,
a loved one.
We hear the politician,
the preacher,
the anchor.
Decry the wrong,
the perversion,
the society at large.
And the words that come bubbling out of our mouths are:
Anger at the injustice that has come forth from evil itself,
Hate for the one's responsible,
Momentary sympathy for those who have been hurt,
Calls for an apology,
a change,
retaliation.
But the voice that is seldom heard is the one that is the least boastful,
least knowing,
least declaratory.
The voice seldom heard is nary any noise at all,
Not even a whimper.
The voice seldom heard is quiet, patient, and kind.
The voice seldom heard has hope in all things,
believes in all things,
and endures in all things.
The voice seldom heard makes no assumptions.
And so it does not make noise, but rather, silence.
It is only in silence that a still small voice can be heard.
An unassuming voice, whose name is love.
