I sit and stare
Into the where
Of within me
At the world of words and sounds and sights,
Peoples and places and empty spaces,
And under it all
A small oasis of Silence
Where time ceases to be
And I am part of eternity.
The sun tries to come out. It is a true November morning--cold and grey, with hints of blue and white light in the sky, a haze over the hills and trees, the ground covered with wet leaves, the trees dead and barren except for the pines. ... I sit content, held in peace as if God is embracing me. The silence is magnificent and healing. I become a part of it--silent, calm, at peace. My soul is quieted.