Stillness Begets Silence

This one is about my creative process, literally and metaphorically. I hope you enjoy my friends.

When I wrap letters carefully,

With the greatest of meaning,

Around Your Vision.

The ones that come in the night like phantoms,

Dreams spilling like fog from my sleeping mind,

Stirred by Your Spirit, shifting tone, multiplying.

Imagery mingled with the sacred, much of it sealed.

The ones that come during my daytime wanderings,

When my mind drifts off in long hours of work,

Where imagination sparks creation and births daydreams.

Perhaps visions too — where we are participants.

I listen — yet if you stood here, you might mistake me

For one chasing the wind, or speaking to nothing.

Still, you would be mistaken,

For stillness begets silence,

And silence holds Him.

In the Stillness I search within as much as around me.

For that breath carrying the living Word.

The whisper.

The Silence that thunders.

Born in quiet, refined in living,

Shaped by the Potter’s hand,

Nurtured in love and listening.

The Eternal One, always present.

I listen for the not-sound of His Voice.

Through constant prayer I keep my temple tuned to Him.

Amid the flurry of my scattered thoughts, I float,

Corralling them, focusing wholly

On what has been given —

Sanctifying our souls by Your precious Blood.

I wait for the silent feeling.

The one that says do good.

The one that says forgive when all others say never.

The one that warms us when we give our coat.

The Infinite, Eternal, All in All —

We praise You.

That is all Dust can bring,

Faced with Your Glory.

Only praise.