Quietude Revisited
by Odin Roark

This noiseless moment…

Like a tree’s dark shadow,
knows only the absorption of all colors,
rendering the dark din of senses
a cacophonous silence.

How gentle the process
once resistance abates
the mind’s own deprivation tank,
engendering trust void of fear.

Yet…

So hesitant are many
to embrace the white light,
to wait out nature’s tintinnabulation,
the colorless noise becoming aphonic.

To lay oneself down
afloat atop the water,
the grass,
the ethereal reality of consciousness,
where leaves of brown
beneath the awaiting orange of red and yellow
repeat nature’s cycle.

Here is…

Where jasmine lures the mulch of life
into purity’s gateway,
patiently biding time’s eternal truth,
preparing one with zero.

The hush of peace,
the quiet of love,
the mutation of hate
conjoining in harmony’s sublime reward…

The circle of quietude.