Saturday, August 16, 2014


The sweet cradling arms of silence
They are never empty
Silence always holds something
or maybe I have just never reached the bottom of it
As I sit in the middle of my life, my mess, I reach for the silence, I reach for the bottom
In the past it was often filled with fear, judgement, anger
Fury silently foaming over the edges
Like a river cleaning out the overflow of toxins
Funny how the raging rapids are fast and clear but the still pockets that gather debree bubble with emerging unknown  
I am still scared of the silence 
but I cannot run from it anymore
I need it
I need to lay at the bottom of me and let the silence wash over 
Waves of silence that hold stillness, that hold sadness
Waves that carry anger and grief 
That swallow me in pitch black 
and then fill me with light
Waves that break with understanding
crash into me with gratitude
Waves that bid adieu to the old me 
Waves that push forth the true me 
Lap after gentle lap

August 2014

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