I
My very close friend got a lot done.
A lot!
But she was cracking up -
and she knew it!
She told me she needed to get away.
I lived in the countryside,
so, of course, I invited her to stay.
She left the world of machines
and non-stop doing, doing, doing -
to do nothing,
resolutely.
for a while.
She set up an automated reply on her laptop and phone:
“had to stop.
Will listen/read messages when I start again.
Can´t say when.”
And came and sat in my garden
and watched trees all day,
in a daze.
II
It took me a month to unwind, she said -
to unfurl...
It took a month for my nerves to trust
the silence wouldn´t be broken,
suddenly.
roughly.
Her world got softer and softer.
Another month passed.
Another month of dawns and days,
and dusks and nights.
Quiet nights of darkness and stars -
and quiet nights of full moons and bright dreams -
blew their quietness, softly, into her days.
III
Every morning she´d get up at dawn,
and go for a walk.
And walk slower and slower and slower.
Until on one such dawn walk
my friend walked into sacredness.
When I met her she was sitting on a rock
beside a path.
She invited me to sit beside her.
I feel like a sprouting seed, she said.
If sprouts had eyes they´d look around like this, she said, laughing...
and she opened her eyes wide -
like a baby or a buddha -
and I noticed
the beauty she was seeing
was making her cry,
softly.
She pursed her lips
and kissed the air,
and said:
the silence has lips.
I kiss the lips of the silence.
Mark Josephs, "Mark the Mystic Activist", Aragon, Spain, Summer 2024 www.markthemysticactivist.com CONSCIOUS TRIBES Seeds of a New Culture
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