I notice your absence...
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  
amused.
A thought:
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  
for others.
All this?
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  
ignorance!
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
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