Long ago words were spoken
with the sound of trees,
the whoosh of leaves,
river water rolling stones
and crows with lampblack feathers.
We would listen
then form our mouths
to the ohs, the wahs,
the kas, mouths shaped
to our relations,
to the sounds we heard
within the great circle.
Proud of our many words
we filled the sky with wires,
covering the earth
with our talk,
yet the elders say
the oldest sound,
the most important sound
is silence.
Amen. So Powerful. Thanx.
Ah, yes… the oldest healing salve… silence.
Beautiful. Thanks, Don.
I often sit and listen to the sound of silence, not realizing it is a “sound”. Thanks for the poetic reminder.
Don…..right now I’m sitting in a woodland along the slopes of a Spanish Sierra,,……taking in the melodious and hugely varied songs of dozens of species of local birds…….your poem is a beautiful and timely reflection of this experience…..thanks
Most exquisite, Don
“Our conversation continues in silence
that underrated third voice that never interrupts
and always has something worthwhile to say”
Gordon Hampton: One Square Inch Of Silence
http://onesquareinch.org/
Ah – sweet stillness
Beautiful and timely on this day of observance and remembrance in Normandy, France. Thanks, Don.
You are a talented and productive poet Don. Thank you for sharing….
The Oldest Sound: l often wish I were more comfortable with silence although the sound of a loving human voice is quite wonderful too and much preferred…..
Yum…yum….so true, Don.
Exquisite Don… Sitting in natural surround a humming bird visits the stillness & with the subtle sound of her wings inches from my face I open my eyes & hear mySelf…
Don, Loved this one … seldom heard, often wished for.
In silence I hear my heart beating. Beautiful, Don. I am grateful!
The elders are right! Thanks, Don. I’ve just finished going through the galley proofs of my latest novel, and after all those words, I need silence. I hope readers will both hear and feel a good silence when they finish, too, even if it’s just for a moment.
Wise. The sound of silence, the sounds of nature, reflected in the sounds of poetic words,
Amen.
Beautiful–full of sound and silence both.
Thanks for drawing our attention to our true nature in nature.
Love this dad
When I was 11 I had a very memorable day climbing Mt Manadnaock in New Hampshire..I was with my parents and on the descent I decided to run skip ahead of all the others and as I flowed down hill the trees were tossing and murmuring..the wind was stirring them and I heard them speak to me and they taught me their language a kind of deep beautiful sighing sound that filled the chest and opened the heart as one made it..I remember being so exhilarated at this seemingly tremendous discovery and telling my parents when they arrived at the bottom that I had learned the language of the trees… Years have passed and sometimes I forget this and then sometimes I remember..Thankyou for reminding me with your perfect poem.