A silence worthy of the Name
The poppy, small and stark, shines
out from every place.
As if a shard of broken dreams and
promises.
A crimson tear of blood which
marks this moment’s chance.
‘Let this time be the healing of the
damaged world.’
Is human violence echoed by the
natural round?
The haze of gunsmoke drifting
through the bluebell wood;
And lilliputian canons roar from
gorses’ heart,
And autumn sadness carpets every grove
with grief.
The whimper offered by the
breaking heart of earth,
The desolation with each country
torn apart.
The hushing of a million, million
ended lives,
Sounds in our minute’s silence
challenging its very truth.
Each year November brings this
moment’s time of grace;
In quiet, know the chance to
change is ours to grasp.
Reach out in hope to take the
others offered hand;
And make our silence worthy of
their sacrifice.
Eternal rest Grant Unto Them O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them, may the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God, rest in peace.
Warmest gratitude to Fr Mark for sharing this with us.