Wolf Blanket – Photo: L. Weikel

Silence Abounds

It’s time to step back; it’s time to withdraw into the place where silence monopolizes all conversation, where silence abounds.

Sometimes silence imparts more wisdom and nuance than any number of words could possibly convey, no matter how artfully cobbled together or intricately woven.

Silence is not to be feared. I say that, and I write that; and I know it to be true. Yet no matter how much we may crave it, no matter how earnestly we may seek it out, when it arrives, we sometimes aren’t quite sure what to make of it. Or do with it.

For my part, I intend to revel in it.

Horrors or Riches

I intend to dive into the deep end of the pool of silence I’ve recently found myself encountering.

There very well may be unspeakable horrors waiting just underneath the surface. My toes, as they tread the silence, may graze the skin of these monsters, sensing ever so fleetingly the stubbled, clammy surface of half dead lies, that thing that wants only to consume voraciously, without discrimination, refusing all limits.

And there just as easily – and likely – may be untold riches waiting to be discovered in the silence. The trick is not allowing the monsters to distract or dissuade.

The trick is also never assuming you’ll always recognize the monsters. Or the riches either, for that matter.

Sometimes they’re nested within each other, making the whole process intricately more complicated and fascinating.

Silence abounds. All bets are off. I wonder what I’ll discover.

Cletus knows – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-677)