In this silence
there is not the hush of a breeze,
not the purr of a cat,
not the hum of summer bees
and not the wiping of feet on a familiar mat.

In this silence
there is the absence of fear,
the quenching of thirst
and the quiet eating of hungry bread.

In this silence
there is the wise old look that says so much.

This silence is and is not
the lapping of gentle waters on the shores of a lonely lake;
is and is not the cries of gulls
hovering above the cliffs of etenal seas.