Unless otherwise attributed, all content, text or image, on this site is © TaunaLen 2005-2011.
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Monday, November 19, 2007

Silent Muse

Silence is never truly silent. When I am still, the soft quiet noises all around me can better be felt, heard. The wind rustles the leaves, and flutters through the pages of my book. In the distance I hear a woman’s voice, high and happy, like she’s talking to a loved one. Footsteps echo, approach, pass and recede. In the background the traffic rumbles and hums as though music were playing in the autumn air.

Silence can be a hiding place, or a place of discovery. The thoughts and feelings that are drowned out by the day’s noise are suddenly before me in a quiet room, in the absence of a blaring television. The questions line up before me and beg to be heard, demand to be answered.

Even in silence, the world, outside or inside, clamors for attention. It’s not long before a telephone rings or a friend drops by to borrow a cup of human connection. Silence makes people uncomfortable---smothers and suffocates---until they turn on a radio or start a conversation with a stranger. But they don’t know silence as I do.

We sit together in a room while my pen scratches across the page, and silence listens to me. He values my words and keeps my secrets. Silence does not judge, but waits patiently until my flood of words is spent, and then echoes the same words back to me with delight and approval. No, silence is not one to be feared. He is rather, one to embrace, to welcome, to greet with open arms and open heart. Silence cannot frighten me, he is a welcomed friend.

1 comment:

childlife said...

I like this one very much. I am one who is recharged by silence, by solitude. Your description of silence as a friend made my heart smile as I recognized the portrait being being painted - lovely work!

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