In rereading a journal entry of many years ago I wrote with little editing, ‘that my husband of more than a half century went out the door this morning with little communication. Though there was little talk, there was a communion of shared history in the house.
I think that has replaced talking, being more a feeling than anything. Not preferable, but the status.
The feeling is that we are what we are and there is no changing at this time. It was a matter of love me as I am for I can be no other.
It is not that communication would not be welcome. But even that I really don’t know. Growth is singular and individual, depending on the soul’s need and intent.
There comes a time that is past communication. There is a time for silence. Silence , I would suppose is a time for Being.’
(I add this thought today, ‘a time for Being, not like in closing shop, but Out Of Time, meaning outside of Time. Elsewhere. A soon time.)
It is a time
past the time of talk,
past the time of argues.
There is a time of silence,
a shared silence,
a time to accept,
a time to simply
slip into old slippers and Be.
No matter the world,
this time is ours.
Maybe not to fill
all the empty spaces
but given time, blends them
into a communion of shared silences.