And the rest is silence

"Be still and know that I am God."
-Psalms 46:10

This used to be my favorite verse. I realized it wasn't anymore when I drove into work the this morning. The catelogue of outrages on talk radio wasn't compelling. The music on the other stations offered no joy. The CDs did not stir me. I drove along, the hum of the wheels beneath me, the whirring of the defroster going, and the uneven patter of the rain on my the roof and windshield of my car prompting me to wonder why something that used to offer succor now only clawed at me like a great void seeking to fill its inanition with my peace of mind. And the hardest part is know that you can talk to God, but sometimes his answer is no answer at all. It is hard to gain your equilibrium after such a drive, when the haunting strains of Blue Rodeo's singular melancholia strikes a little too close to home, and seems to cut a little too deep.

"Hey, hey I guess it hasn't hit me yet...
I fell through this crack and I kinda hit my head...
I stand transfixed before this streetlight...
Watching the snow fall on this cold November night..."