I speak the language of
The gods;
Silence.
Years of practice, flexing
Soundlessness
Repeatedly
Until its grip around
My brain's mouth became
Inescapable.
Dead center of any
Construction site;
Loud meetings,
City streets.
I carry a flame of tranquility
Anywhere.
This morning I watched the
Sun rise over Oslo from
The roof of my
Workplace. Pink touching
Blue pushing February
Darkness gently away,
As if whispering a child
Back from sleep.
Seagulls and crows
Dancing. Silences matching
Inner with outer,
I stood smiling.
Smiling so
Hard I
Cried.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 7:38 AM UTC
I speak the language of
The gods;
Silence.
Years of practice, flexing
Soundlessness
Repeatedly
Until its grip around
My brain's mouth became
Inescapable.
Dead center of any
Construction site;
Loud meetings,
City streets.
I carry a flame of tranquility
Anywhere.
This morning I watched the
Sun rise over Oslo from
The roof of my
Workplace. Pink touching
Blue pushing February
Darkness gently away,
As if whispering a child
Back from sleep.
Seagulls and crows
Dancing. Silences matching
Inner with outer,
I stood smiling.
Smiling so
Hard I
Cried.
