As some of you might also do, after writing a poem I will take one word that I think is the essence of my writing and paste it into Google’s image search engine. My hope is to find a perfect piece of art to accompany the brief peak into my mind and heart. Often times I believe I succeed in finding such an image.
Today while looking for something to go with the word ‘silence’ I came across a graphic, whose source stopped me in my tracks. It completely conveyed what I needed to read at that exact moment.
Here are the words I found that belonged to the above image for ‘Silence”
“It is time to still your mind, still all the voices that clamor and distract you from clarity. It is time to stop communicating, stop talking, stop trying to reason things through with language, and open your inner vision. Let your mind become as breathlessly silent as fog, as free as a butterfly. This moment is perfect... the next moment is perfect...
Be still. Listen.”
(source: http://www.lunaea.com/tarot/tarottour2/tour25.html )
I wish my poem were as good as the above piece, but none-the-less...my poem follows:
I tried to sit in silence
only to be bombarded;
washers, a TV, and rain.
I wanted to turn it all off;
to end the constant noise.
And that’s not counting
what was in my head.
Or the echo inside
my empty heart.
There is no escape.
Silence does not exist,
as in all things hoped for
but never found.
© 2006 Sara Coslett
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|Reviewed by Arthur Tugman
Is a moment in time
That when expressed in mime
Can be heard by all
-- Arthur Tugman
Sara, I love your poetry. Please keep in touch.
|Reviewed by jude forese
|continue hoping an seraching and perhaps silence will reveal itself ... silence as a symbol of peace ...
good write, Sara ...
|Reviewed by Linda Roman
|I too love a moment of silence, yet sometimes I wonder maybe sounds are just another way for us to realize we have life.
well penned... thanks
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|I love waking up alone in a jungle, to the cacaphony of sounds. There's time enough for silence when you are stone deaf in old age.
|Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner
|WOW, Sara, this one stopped me in my tracks. Excellent, powerful write!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
|Reviewed by Mr. Ed
|I think it can be found, if one tries hard enough. And I find your explanation at the beginning fascinating, Sara. I usually do just the opposite - I start with a graphic or a photo, and then I write the poem.|
|Reviewed by Felix Perry
|The silence you long for and dream of can be found but it is only when you learn to control your thoughts. Once you learn that then no amount of outside noice will penetrate. Great write though.
|Reviewed by F William Broome
|What marvelous compostion exists with the borrowed work, and your own. Your couplet reminds me of half my life; the so called, silent half... bad joke! It is true, there is NO silence. Thankful, I am for the silence of good sleep. Sleep well, Sara. - Bill
|Reviewed by Crystal Silver Angel (Reader)
|Amen..This is a treasure!!!|
|Reviewed by Tinka Boukes
|There is no silence....even in silence there is a sharpness in it that screams out....might be just my imagination but that is how I hear total silence!!
Well penned !!
|Reviewed by E T Waldron
|Sara, I was thinking as I looked at your art,"She always gets the best graphics" Honestly, so when I scrolled down I was surprised to read your explanation. I love the preface, and your poem! I truly believe there is no "silence." It really is mostly a word to tell us what it is, but not how to achieve it;-) However, I do think we can make our own silence if we learn the higest art of meditation. I have achieved it a few times through yoga and centered meditation.But it really is just our getting to that plataeu where we can block all things out, not that there is silence. How can there be in a world of people,bugs, electricty, industry, and automation, etc. Though it's great to reach the facsimilie sometimes, worth the effort.
|Reviewed by Sara Coslett
|Reviewed by richard cederberg
|"Silence does not exist" is an interesting premise, which has myriad ramifications, all of which would be unfair to expound on in a review.
I can agree certainly that there is no silence in the city, and even when my wife and I retreat to the wilderness to hike and contemplate, the noise of the city seems to remain in the brain for many hours.
This construct has a universal feel to it. I believe the writer is still searching for something that, as yet, has not been found in her life.