tithings, but as a warmth.
So, Now I pause and consider if it is best to share this creative
expression on my blog and decided that I rarely let the inner working
of my playful thoughts and musings (creative writing some call it?)
out-in the rawness of words. Why not, then? There is delicateness of
words that only describe a feeling...easily judged or more often
misunderstood. Nontheless, I will post this and pray your heart be
Some despise another's silence because their immagination gets the
best of them. Others avoid the concreatness of truthful words that
settle the matter.
Why prefer the former? Like seasons, ones' chill might thaw. The
latter is an enterprise that takes not only time, but great effort-
plus mutual humility...
Most humans can hardly endure their own foolishness lighty enough to
allow another the same. How little patience we have for some and more
Nothing but my thoughts...when met by your silence.
I can only conclude: it seems, somehow, I offended thee.
Well, I will not force the matter. I would rather stand at a distance
to your back and feel a chill than prompt you to close the door-
whereby surely I would freeze.
My friend, your open kindness is a fire by which I warm my soul.
But, in truth-we only meet one another in front of the fire, it is not
yours or mine. This house is a mansion with billions of fires, surly
I will stay warm, it is my nature to be met by the warmth of light.
But why do you stand in the corner? And why do I care? Meet me half
way, won't you? Neither silence-nor words, but an honest glance or a
simple embrace. But, true-you are not here.
Is your silence but wisdom?
Yes! I see! Only after this reflection.... I am guilty, of youthful
Grasping for a phantom! Describing, capturing, clinging to our
meetings and what we share-reducing it to words!
You! You are silent, not in distance, perhaps, but in wisdom?
Distant enough to witness.
I, on the other hand, sound a fool as I describe the moment when I
noticed I had not heard from you.
It is as if I am trying to report the detail of each
sensation...nuance and moment! I suppose, and I know it is futile.
I don't know why I try.
Oh, of course! I am doing it now! Damn! My imagination has filled
the silence...with words, with nothing-you are not here. Neither in
presence, nor- as silence tells me, in mind.
Strange, but I think in your absence I have attempted to relive the
intimacy of your actual presence only to fail, but all the while
willing! I do not say that my minds imagination of you replaces your
presence and if your silence alone has taught me anything, it is this.
If at the very least you see this as an amusing way to say that I
notice: You are not here!
Please, Be only flattered or ammused!
This dance of words was performed for my mind, in memory-of you!
Sent from my iPhone