2025-06-24
A Heart Without Words
In quiet rooms where shadows fall,
We bow our heads and softly start
To shape our longing, give it all—
But truest prayer begins with heart.
For words may rise like autumn leaves,
And scatter quickly on the air;
But meaning hides in what believes,
In silent hope, in earnest care.
A thousand phrases, well-rehearsed,
May tumble from unthinking tongue;
Yet empty echoes, dry and terse,
Are songs unsung, are bells un-rung.
But when the heart is open, bare,
And aches with longing, love, or pain,
No syllable need linger there—
The soul’s intent is clear and plain.
For prayer is more than voice or sound,
More than the script of ancient art;
It’s where the sacred can be found:
A wordless plea, a beating heart.
So let your silence speak for you,
Let every breath become your part;
It’s better, always, to be true—
A heart without words than words without heart.
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