On Days, and: Light Music, and: Shed No Sound

On Days, and: Light Music, and: Shed No Sound Jim Richards (bio) On Days They come one after another, so be prepared.No, there is no end to them. Even if you end,the days go on and on. They come with different weather, so be prepared.Yes, there will be cold and rain. Even when you're cold,the days go on and on. They come filled with seconds, minutes, hours,so be prepared. It is difficult to fill them, and yetthere are never enough of them. You cannot be prepared for some days—I should have made that clear. Certain days,the worst ones, will pierce you. Those days, you will live over and over. This is allthat is known about days, so be prepared. This,and the fact that some days are warm. But you cannot prepare for warm days.You can only let them hold you when they arriveand try to recall them when they are gone. End Page 103 Light Music Return, and let the floodlight fill youas the sun's silence fills the morning train.If you stay in darkness, it can kill you. Consider the seed that waits beneath the soil,still until the warming weather calls:Return, and let the sunlight fill you. A song swirls, unwritten, in the void,until the writer whispers: come out,if you stay in silence, it will kill you. Then the music plays and, as a starthat sends its light into infinity, the wavesreturn, and like a floodlight fill you. The future is a lamp, the past is singingin a circle, an ancient hymn that says:if you pray in darkness, it can't kill you. Consider what your sacred texts have said:body is bell, soul the morning peal.Return, and let the ringing thrill you.If you become the music, light can heal you. End Page 104 Shed No Sound You don't need to answer anyone's questions.You have the right to remain silent.When they accuse you of making art,let your lips be sewn shut.When they claim that you have strung words together,open not your mouth.When they shame you for startling the masses,be dumb.If they hang a millstone of lies around your neckand cast you into the sea,let not even the ocean hear your cries.You have the right. Even if they encircle youwith false fire, you may remain mute. Even if theytear from you the books that are partof your own body, you may shed no sound. Listen—you don't hear the earth answer, do you?And look how we have ravaged her. End Page 105 Jim Richards jim richards has poems in Poetry Northwest, Copper Nickel, Sugar House Review, and Prairie Schooner. Nominated for Best New Poets and three Pushcart Prizes, he received a fellowship from the Idaho Arts Commission. His first collection, Song for My Left Ear, Song for My Right, is forthcoming in 2025. Copyright © 2024 University of North Dakota