Monday, January 11, 2010

Be Still

What is there left to say--
To anyone?
Everything has already been heard.
Nothing is left hanging--
Left dangling
But even wordlessness
Sounds and rings in my ears.
The silence vibrates.
It hums in syncopated breaths
With anticipatory intensity.
When does it all become placid?
When does the world become still?
A flat, windless, and calm surface--
With its depths darkly hidden and
Draped by its smooth, rhythmless serenity.

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