I, who live by words, am wordless when   
I try my words in prayer. All language turns   
To silence. Prayer will take my words and then   
Reveal their emptiness. The stilled voice learns   
To hold its peace, to listen with the heart --   
to silence that is joy, is adoration.   
The self is shattered, all words torn apart   
In this strange patterned time of contemplation   
That, in time, breaks time, breaks words, breaks me,   
And then, in silence, leaves me healed and mended.   
I leave, returned to language, for I see   
Through words, even when all words are ended.   
I, who live by words, am wordless when   
I turn me to the Word to pray. Amen.
To learn to concentrate without effort   
and to transform work into play   
I need to have and hold a zone of silence   
in my soul.