I am often the quietest person in the room. Sometimes, it means I am uncomfortably struggling to converse. And, sometimes, it is just a purposeful, peaceful place I choose to go to when the world is too loud…
Sitting in the cool shade,
Wrapped up in the quiet of my own self,
Blanketed by the deepening twilight of
Much busyness without.
Children’s continuous chatter,
Husband’s wrenches clatter,
But, today seems to be one of
Where it doesn’t even really matter.
For I tune up my own frequency,
Steal away into the shadows of
My own being,
Knock around in the expanse of
Endless, blessedly empty halls,
Run my hands along rain-slick walls.
Each footstep echoes and creates
Symphonies of my heart,
And silence in a crowd
Swells with a singular beauty of which
I alone am a part….