-A restrained meditation on humility, the poem explores what belief becomes when stripped of performance, leaving only silence, self-honesty, and the possibility of change.
No one is watching.
No stained glass.
No microphone.
No nodding heads
waiting for certainty.
Just a room
and the small noise
of your own breathing.
You begin without posture.
Hands not folded
for approval.
Knees not bent
for effect.
Only stillness
that feels unfamiliar
without an observer.
What do you say
when there is no one
to impress?
No doctrine to defend.
No argument to win.
No heaven
to negotiate with.
The words thin.
They lose their armor.
You notice
how much of belief
was performance.
How often your voice
rose
because others were listening.
Now it lowers.
Not from shame.
From honesty.
You do not ask
for victory.
You do not ask
for proof.
You ask for clarity.
For patience.
For the strength
to see yourself
without distortion.
Silence answers.
Not with comfort.
Not with thunder.
Just space.
And in that space
something loosens.
The need to be right.
The hunger to be seen
as good.
If there is a listener,
it does not interrupt.
If there is not,
the room remains.
Either way,
you are left
with yourself.
And perhaps
that was always
the point.
Not to be heard.
But to become
quieter
enough
to change.