mere hours into
an eternity of days
and my soul
is consumed in silence.
not the rich, deep
contemplative quiet
where saints are
formed and reared.
just the quietness
of ordinary days.
days where thoughts
fall too far back
into the crevices,
and caverns,
of the brain.
a place too vast,
still numbed with pain.
I haven’t yet the courage
or the strength
to crawl in there
to retrieve them.
like a handful of
released balloons,
all thoughts seem
to escape me.
staring straight
into distance,
i do not know
whether I am
glimpsing into the
future,
or gazing into the past.
for in these moments of
utter solitude,
a paradox is birthed.
in my mind,
in this beginning
of forever,
time has both stopped
and lapsed.
SecondHandSaintsblog 