In
the Silence Between Thoughts
In the silence between thoughts,
the milliseconds of listening; that
is where the peace is found. Unaccompanied music
swings us like leaves in the wind.
I know the endless narration, the novella we never
meant to write. But it is fiction, it is not your story
today.
Find someone to read it to you anew;
I will start at the beginning with a new
chapter every day. I will remind you that
those unmanaged words like rocks, the barbs
of fiery poison,
do not bear your name. They are not the holy space
where you hear secrets so sacred they are
barely breathed to life within you. I will
hold your tears, offer you the palms of my hands,
and if you need,
to let you cry again.
You have been scribbled on too long. Now
breathe your name slowly. Hear your own voice
tell the wounded child
you are not at fault. You are not less, you are not
minus in a world
of aggressive arithmetic.
In the sun, between the silences,
imbued with blue, let the artist paint your portrait.
Stilly. Sit within the loving gaze of all who
treasure the moments they spend with you.
In the purple night, separated from the blistering
rage that demands your perfection,
see the blinking above, the caress of cool grass
under your feet,
And let your name be more precious than even
saints can imagine. Let the namer of all things
call you like a mother rings the dinner bell.
Let all the wonders of you
seep in like a late summer waterfall.
Between the songs, unafraid of love,
let the rewriting begin. Your story.
Your song. Your name.
Your eyes and your lungs
steeped in the sacredness of simply
being. The perfume of heaven,
the shoulder to lay your head upon,
the stream washing your feet in the
silence between waking and dreams.
