This is beautiful. All moments of silence speak volumes of we care to listen. Amazing imagery you’ve created and your photo is powerful.

When you write "There is the silence you are wearing now", I felt like you were addressing me directly. A surprise of sorts, a turning of the tables, where as readers, we feel as if we're bystanders, reading a piece, then suddenly called out.

i didn't feel it was directed at me personally, as beth did, but i felt like i was standing *right* next to you and the person you were talking to. i could see the dust motes in the silence and feel my breath; it was that palpable.

There is also the kind of silence you can spend so long in that when it is time to speak, you cannot remember how.

Love the chair as metaphor for silent solitude!

Then there's the silence in a room while reading one of your posts -- it's a very busy, but soothing silence

....





...

That's me being silent. You should record that for posterity. Doesn't happen often.

Loved it.

-r-

There is the silence you are aware of when you pause, hesitate, reflect, before breaking it, and wonder, if it is worth the noise.

I have trouble remaining silent. At least when the world is this so thouroughly fucked.

i do love silence. I suppose that is no surprise.

The first American mingled with his pride a singular humility. Spiritual arrogance was foreign to his nature and teaching. He never claimed the power of articulate speech was proof of superiority over the dumb creation; on the other hand, it is to him a perilous gift. He believes profoundly in silence—the sign of a perfect equilibrium. Silence is the absolute poise or balance of body, mind, and spirit. The man who preserves his selfhood ever calm and unshaken by the storms of existence—not a leaf, as it were, astir on the tree; not a ripple upon the surface of shining pool—his, in the mind of the unlettered sage, is the ideal attitude and conduct of life.

If you ask him: "What is silence?" he will answer: "It is the Great Mystery!" "The holy silence is His [90] voice!" If you ask: "What are the fruits of silence?" he will say: "They are self-control, true courage or endurance, patience, dignity, and reverence. Silence is the cornerstone of character."

"Guard your tongue in youth," said the old chief, Wabashaw, "and in age you may mature a thought that will be of service to your people!"

oops == Forgot to give credit where it's way more than due:

Charles Eastman (Ohiyesa) from The Soul of the Indian

and there is the silence after reading a fine lovely poem.
what i have experienced, just now!

Lovely post. I'd add there is the silence of two who love and trust each other that is so comforable. There is also the silence of two who can't thnk of a thing to say. Very very different relations here. R

Evocative.

Oh, and how about this one?

The silence when you've just said something mortifyingly stupid, and those around you are trying to decide (a) whether to respond; (b) whether you've had a recent head injury.

The silence that lasts a year-long second or two, and you pray for a useful *faux pas* from someone else. If someone else could just get slapped, say, or vomit on the floor. Where are those people when you need them?

Not that this kind of thing has ever happened to me, of course.

I sit mute in admiration.

You leave me speechless...

oops == Forgot to give credit where it's way more than due:

Charles Eastman (Ohiyesa) from The Soul of the Indian

Sanra,
This is simply beautiful.

Sandra,
Whoops! Where is my editor? :)

Exquisite.

So glad you have ended your silence here.

speak with freshness and irreverence in youth! be silent old folks and listen to youth, you might still learn something new

Beautiful prose poem....I remain gratefully....silent.

Robert W. Service's poem, "The Spell of the Yukon" is filled with silence, and I thought of it immediately after reading your work. Here are some lines:
'I've stood in some mighty-mouthed hollow
That’s plumb-full of hush to the brim...'

'The cold fear that follows and finds yo
The silence that bludgeons you dumb..."

'It’s the great, big, broad land 'way up yonder,
It’s the forests where silence has lease;
It’s the beauty that thrills me with wonder,
It’s the stillness that fills me with peace.'

Silence is the appreciated stillness
Silence between the tap-tap sound
Keyboard is still and no hicks cups

I was sitting in my P.U. truck in rain.
The patter of the raindrops was nice.
I love parking alone under a Willow.

When the wind blows it's a downpour.
Rain gathers in leaf and falls down hard.
Nature is the wonderful noise that soothes.

My Lane (not Lea) is one-quarter mile long.
In the rural boondocks you can't hear autos.
I drive up the Lane, stop by a autumn insect,
and neighbors assume I'm too smashed `gin.
Locos say I passed-out in my P.U. near home.
`
I admit sometimes I doze off into La La Silence.
I Love the no noise Silence between big burps.
Blessed rest
I yearn too
Aye Silence
I'd be dead
Bliss Silence
apology if I banter on and on. It's a symbiotic (right word?) sense of enjoying you.
I notice once in awhile someone "Favorites" me. I wish I could do it. Button is broke.
The old @ Arthur James blog would send me e-mails. This Art James blog don't.
I love hiccoughs.
I love quiet best.
burp/silence\ay.
hush\Silence/O,
belch/fun irk\;/
IT be\ a silly day.
Good/rain today.
Hang dirty clothes.
Sunshine will come.
Use Lavender Soap.
I Love goat milk soap.
`
CutlerTighFarm@gmail.com /
The farmers call goats their girls.
We banter/barter greens for soap.
We wash up. Milkers make soups.

Wow. This put me in an almost surreal state . . . practically hypnotic . . .

Delightful.

Deeply personal and moving Sandra...that moment that shouts in pretend whispers...

Talk to me.