As we have begun to cruise through December (is it really just the 4th?) I have found myself craving silence.
As the noise and hubbub in our culture at large grows, so does my need to step away for a minute each day and just be quiet.
Ironically, the meditation practice I had been nurturing throughout October and December is lagging due to increased demands upon my time and worries in my brain. This is a sad reality, as I actually need more time in meditation as we approach the holidays and not less. Not only to keep my sanity intact, but to get to a place where I might find the meaning behind all the busyness.
As I said before, sometimes it is the silence that speaks to our hearts the loudest.
With that being said, I am going to let my voice rest and share the words of others with you for a while.
I offer you a poem by my talented friend, Anya Silver. You can find a whole book of her outstanding poems by clicking here.
Advent, First Frost
Something has descended
like a feathered prophecy.
Someone has offered the world
a bowl of frozen tears,
has traced the veins and edges
of leaves with furred ink.
The grass is stiff as the stings of a lute.
And, day by day, the tiny windows
crack their cardboard frames,
seizing the frail light. The sun,
these waxy squares, undiminished
as a word passing
from mind to speech.
Every breath a birth,
a stir of floating limbs within me.
I stay up late and waken early
to feel beneath my feet
the silence coming.
May you too have the grace to feel the silence coming.