No noise, chatter, busyness or worry.
Silence, sweet silence.
by Pablo Neruda
Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.
Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.
Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.
If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.
Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.
Sylvia Boorstein reading the poem:
Savor these BLUE worlds of solitude and reflection:
“The quieter you become the more you are able to hear.” ~ Rumi
This moment of calm has been brought to you by blue skies, serene seas, bluebonnets, winsome whales, sweet dreams, distant horizons, mysterious moonlight, open windows, empty rooms, and minds adrift.
Have a peaceful weekend.
The lovely and talented Susan Bruck is hosting the Roundup at Soul Blossom Living. Check out her fun, whimsical poem and the full menu of poetic goodness being shared around the blogosphere this week. As always, stay safe, be well, and have a good weekend.
Copyright © 2020 Jama Rattigan of Jama’s Alphabet Soup. All rights reserved.