Thursday, June 25, 2009

Searching for Silence


Searching for silence
Dreaming of a quiet place
My mind plays
With a warming sun
The view of water
The fragrance of a dry forest
The taste of summer salt
And a mountain stream
Of gentle thoughts

I was wise enough
To trim all tags of obligation
Before I left to find a quiet
Gentle peace in this secret place
Then I drew myself out
From the middle of
A conflicted life

It was my mind
That was tired
Not my soul
Lightened by
Its loss of burden
Mind fell asleep
Exhausted from living
Its own well-wishing
But self-serving lie
Happy to leave this ship
In the hands of my soul
Alone for a moment
On the safe waters
Of a gently ordered nature

After all… what trouble
Could an other-worldly soul stir
On such a quiet and peaceful sea
And within such a familiar harbor
My mind expected
That quiet would come
So it slept soundly and safely
Outside of its storm

But not my soul
I noticed as I found
My peaceful place in nature
That although my stream
Of gentle thoughts
Seemed real enough
Before I arrived
It was as fixed as a written book
When floated against
The unrehearsed will
Of an authentic living world

A world that stood up
From its quiet seat of tiredness
To let the wind play the trees
Then push past my body
Hurrying with excitement
To answer its own question
That was rushed from the breath
Of a rising sky of cedars
Grouped at the edge of my yard
The wind ran by to
The orange colored lilies
Growing in the planted garden
Their faces new to the world

The wind had only this moment
To let the lilies answer the trees
In their very own way
With the voice
That the wind brought for them

No other moment
Could have answered this question
No other moment
Could have offered the same truth

Songs of birds were fit
Into the music of the landscape
Joining the conversation
Just where they belonged
Even the dry flutter
Of a red dragon fly
Was important to the piece
Each found note unique
In its purpose and its sound
Nothing wanting
And nothing wasted

I probably missed
More than I heard
And not knowing just when
A bird’s song would come
Or how it would arrive
Or what it would say
Never diminished the joy
That shimmered upon
Its unannounced arrival

For the first time ever
I didn’t long for a scripted
Flow of gentle thought
That painted a false world
For me to see
A place for me to die

Instead the music
Just became louder,
More full, more complex
And more magic
Until no voice
Could possibly be heard
Beside or within the music
In this peaceful and alive place
Where I found my own heartbeat
And my own breathing
Had joined this perfect music
Playing together with it
As if they had never
Been apart

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