Write The Silence . . .

Can we write the silence within, the hum and whisper after a deafening din spinning out the sorrows, the ancient loss? Can we spill the sounds of stillness, of a heartbeat almost stopped back there past the bend at the end of hope, a hope not allowed but relentless, a hope undefined except in that longing for deepest resonance? Is it valid if…if…if…?

I think it sounds so mellow and dramatic and I fear it pangs of self-pity but it’s so much deeper. It’s the feel of a body, a mind, of spirit reaching down deep for another round of life — beyond the last break, ragged sucking something invisible, grateful gulping chunks of air, feeling down to toes the next breath of eternal now…

Another Round
Another Round




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I live... for love... for truth that liberates... for growth... for beauty... for intelligent, soulful connection and so much else.

6 thoughts on “Write The Silence . . .

  1. Better than to feel numb…
    I think.
    Though sometimes I wonder.
    I imagine this week you may have questioned that too, wondering if perhaps NOT feeling might be a good alternative.
    And at the end, I know you too would rather take the pain, the “weeping wailing”, in order to be present, alive, and so full of passion for the world around you as well as inside you.
    And sure, with each trial we become stronger… but…It’s just that sometimes, and it sounds like this week for you was definately one of those weeks, we have to wonder how strong we really need to be!
    We are woman… hear me roar?

    1. Aye…so true. Some of the strongest stuff is found in those crumble moments. A seeming contradiction creating: We go to ground and disintegrate in order to grow stronger and more resilient. Especially when we do it without a victim attitude.

      Women are so wonderful…what a place this world would be if more of us knew it. Roaring great wonder…

  2. Pray tell, my sister, what is it?
    I turn to you to cry on your shoulder, but feel your own pain and want to know how I can help.
    I lost another foal this week. Little E. Almost 2 months old. Heart failure. An enlarged heart the vet said, and he is taking it in for testing to tell me exactly WHY.

    1. Gin…it’s been a week of weeping wailing. But I’m ok. Just a relationship I cherished ended painfully last year and then when it could’ve reached at least some clarity in closure recently…no go. I’m criticizing myself relentlessly on the one hand and hurt with the person on the other hand. And it’s just life, you know? Just basic living hurts sometimes when you’re this busy. Like being so tired (I mean sheer, drop dead fatigue.) and so invested in it all that you feel these sobs well up and you can’t sob again. You have to put one foot, then the other. There is a fat profound silence in that moment.

      Those foals are so precious, such wonder…I hate that it ended like this for you. We invest richly in all we do…everything is so tender. And then wham. When you care this much, it just shouldn’t end tragically! Or suddenly or anything but with great gallops of joy. That’s what those foals are…they are the earth’s promise of so much we experience in our souls and in our sweetest relationships. They are IT. So vital…Argh…big hugs and comfort to you…your concern is a balm.

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