Monday, December 07, 2009

Poetry & Silence

Author John O'Donahue says poetry is the language of silence. I walked the Cobble on Sunday to live those words.








In the crystal woods
The water talks to itself.
Poetry stalks trees.

9 comments:

Brian Hayes said...

'the water talks to itself', woot!


Oh, the comfort—

the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person—

having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words,

but pouring them all right out,

just as they are,

chaff and grain together;

certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them,

keep what is worth keeping,

and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.

—Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

Vincent said...

Oh, John O'Donahue, he's the man all right!

And isn't walking with one's own two feet the very pen with which the poems are written in the ink of silence?

Your post reminds me a little of this one, replete with quotations about the inspirational value of walking.

Molly said...

What a lovely place to walk.....

Meggie said...

Aaaahhh!

Pauline said...

Thanks for the poem Brian - and the compliment :)

Vincent - you're a poet, too! Thanks for the link. I enjoyed "walking" there.

Molly - it is a beautiful nature preserve. Come walk with me!

Meggie - it's an "ahhhh" place in every season.

JeannetteLS said...

Just beautiful. Nothing at all else I can say.

Reya Mellicker said...

I love this. Such exquisite images and YES, poetry IS the language of silence. Which explains why I can't write poetry. I'm not good at silence!

Thanks for this.

shara said...

Pauline, are those your pictures? They're lovely, very stark and beautiful.

Pauline said...

Thank you Jeannette!

Reya - silence is just another way of listening. You do it with your body work, I bet :)

Yes, Shara, these are my photographs. I'm learning. I have an excellent teacher in Peter B.