The Wait
The sun has long receded out from the sky,
Pallid gloom invades the wintry air,
Morbid silence hangs over,
Memory sleeps like hibernating toads.
The trees are bare with no leaves to array,
The Earth lies shielded in its icy crust,
There is stillness, the stillness of the grave,
Breaking it, a fox is heard howling afar.
Solitary lies he, in his battered shack,
With a run out lantern throwing pale light,
It burns sending spouts of fume,
Like the last breath of the dying soul.
He listens intent for advancing steps,
Of a long awaited friend, sure to come,
To deliver him of his baneful state,
To row him away across the frozen seas.
poem by Valsa George
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Related quotes
The Simple...
follow that star...
to forlorn manger bare
'neath skies of poverty's making...
the simple, the common,
the calloused hands,
the baby's cry in cold night's grasp....
the light so few could see...
no temple, no righteous robes,
only a carpenter and wife...
no kings, no prophets,
no blaze of fury....
a child born in stillness,
that stillness formed....
abused, misunderstood,
his memory used and twisted
into something else and less....
never knowing, never seeing,
the simple truth....
the hands, fully human,
that dared to touch...
changing the darkness
with compassion's forms...
as if a leaf turning,
and no one heard!
therein lies the beauty,
and the stillness!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Silence
Silence-knows no boundaries
As stillness evokes a host of thoughts
A plethora of lovers and their main streets
'Neath the light poles of mistakes and loss;
Oh, how the depths of remembrance-swells
Cast in spirals of fallen loves, doom
Woe, to the silence that beckons in this grief
Woe, to the stillness that calls forth gloom;
Faces and footprints now haunt the unfathomed
My heart has gone pallid from sheer despair
Silence knows no boundaries-nor limits
While blame comes-from out of thin air;
What was it we were doing anyway?
Delving the depths, only to collide in our own mire
This stillness has evoked an absolute truth...
We are, in fact, nothing, without loves desire! ! ;
poem by Theodora Onken
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Stillness Of The Night
Midnight on the hill I heard the thunder fill
The stillness of the night
It hit me like a slap, youre never comin back
From the stillness of the night
It was never black or white, neither wrong or right
Like the shadow of a full moons light
I knew wed lost the track, when I heard the lightning crack
The stillness of the night
Chorus
In the stillness of the night
Thats when well make it right
We can stop the thunder till the light
In the stillness of the night
I know you think you hear, those voices in your ear
In the stillness of the night
But Ive tried to make it clear theres nothing left to fear
Just the stillness of the night
And if you listen hard you might find the reason for your fright
Just the wind is high tonight
And the danger we must face is the anger of this race
In the stillness of the night
Chorus
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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November 28,2007 is the International Day of Stillness: A Poem for the day
'Stillness is my beloved teacher.
From her, I learn new things every day.'
I said to Stillness,
How can you teach me so well?
Stillness said,
By being with you always.
I said to Stillness,
How can you teach me so much?
Stillness said,
Because you have much within you;
I, but a mirror for your mind;
I, but a mirror for your heart.
I said to Stillness,
O my beloved teacher, will you
promise me you will never leave me?
Stillness said,
I cannot leave you;
though you can leave me..
but what is stillness without a companion?
I said to Stillness,
Is your work hard?
Stillness said,
I have the most wonderful task that I could wish for:
I sit with babies while they smile;
I sit with children in the classroom
as they delight to learn;
I sit with the angry and disturbed,
and watch them grow to peace;
I sit with the sad and lonely and bereaved
and watch them rediscover happiness and joy;
I sit with kings and queens and rulers
while they find wisdom and mercy;
I sit with governments and committees
while they find reason and justice;
I sit with artists and scientists,
and watch them find new things outside themselves,
and find new things within themselves;
I sit with those who pray or meditate,
as they find God in themselves;
I sit at the feet of saints
while they become perfection;
I walk in the gardens of the dawn,
I walk in the gardens of the dusk;
in the deep of the night, I watch;
I fly with birds, in the silence of the air;
I watch the animals as they explore the earth;
I listen to the growing of the trees and plants;
I listen to the opening of the flowers;
Said Stillness,
I am the friend and the companion of all;
who would not love to share my life with me?
I said to Stillness,
May I never leave you.
And Stillness looked me in the eye,
and Stillness smiled at me:
‘I am born with every creature born
to be their friend for life.’
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Hears, And Knows!
if the life of loving comes in seasons,
how long will the snow lay on the ground?
i have begun to understand
the whisperings of the crows.....
can fell the ghostly embrace
of bare limbed trees...
the frozen kiss just before death!
the smoldering fire, just outside the body,
thunder out of time, maybe just memory...
only the deep stillness hears,
.............and knows!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Stillness: a Poem for the International Day of Stillness, November 28
'Stillness is my beloved teacher.
From her, I learn new things every day.'
I said to Stillness,
how can you teach me so well?
Stillness said,
By being with you always.
I said to Stillness,
How can you teach me so much?
Stillness said,
Because you have much within you;
I, but a mirror for your mind;
I, but a mirror for your heart.
I said to Stillness,
O my beloved teacher, will you
promise me you will never leave me?
Stillness said,
I cannot leave you;
though you can leave me..
but what is stillness without a companion?
I said to Stillness,
Is your work hard?
Stillness said,
I have the most wonderful task that I could wish for:
I sit with babies while they smile;
I sit with children in the classroom
as they delight to learn;
I sit with the angry and disturbed,
And watch them grow to peace;
I sit with the sad and lonely and bereaved
and watch them rediscover happiness and joy;
I sit with kings and queens and rulers
while they find wisdom and mercy;
I sit with governments and committees
while they find reason and justice;
I sit with artists and scientists,
and watch them find new things outside themselves,
and find new things within themselves;
I sit with those who pray or meditate,
and watch them find God in themselves;
I sit at the feet of saints
while they become perfection;
I fly with birds, in the silence of the air;
I watch the animals as they explore the earth;
I hear the growing of the trees and plants;
I listen to the opening of the flowers;
I walk in the gardens of the dawn;
I walk in the gardens of the dusk;
in the deep of the night, I watch.
Said Stillness,
I am the friend and the companion of all;
who would not love to share my life with me?
I said to Stillness,
may I never leave you.
And Stillness looked me in the eye,
and Stillness smiled at me:
‘I am born with every creature born
to be their friend for life.’
*
(With acknowledgements to Iain Trousdell of New Zealand, whose poem quoted from in the first two lines inspired this extension..)
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Mater Tenebrarum
In the endless nights, from my bed, where sleepless in anguish I lie,
I startle the stillness and gloom with a bitter and strong cry:
0 Love! 0 Beloved long lost! come down from thy Heaven above,
For my heart is wasting and dying in uttermost famine for love!
Come down for a moment! oh, come! Come serious and mild
And pale, as thou wert on this earth, thou adorable Child!
Or come as thou art, with thy sanctitude, triumph and bliss,
For a garment of glory about thee; and give me one kiss,
One tender and pitying look of thy tenderest eyes,
One word of solemn assurance and truth that
the soul with its love never dies!
In the endless nights, from my bed, where sleepless in frenzy I lie,
I cleave through the crushing gloom with a bitter and deadly cry:
Oh! where have they taken my Love from our Eden
of bliss on this earth?
Which now is a frozen waste of sepulchral and horrible dearth?
Have they killed her indeed? Is her soul as her body, which long
Has moldered away in the dust where the foul worms throng?
O'er what abhorrent Lethes, to what remotest star,
Is she rapt away from my pursuit through cycles and systems far?
She is dead, she is utterly dead; for her life would hear and speed
To the wild imploring cry of my heart that cries in its dreadful need.
In the endless nights, on my bed, where sleeplessly brooding I lie,
I burden the heavy gloom with a bitter an weary sigh:
No hope in this worn-out world, no hope beyond the tomb;
No living and loving God, but blind and stony Doom.
Anguish and grief and sin, terror, disease, and despair:
Why throw not off this life, this garment of torture I wear,
And go down to sleep in the grave in everlasting rest?
What keeps me yet in this life., what spark in my frozen breast?
A fire of dread, 'a light of hope, kindled, 0 Love, by thee;
For thy pure and gentle and beautiful soul, it must immortal be.
poem by James Thomson
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Spring
Wake up again, sad heart, wake up again !
(I heard the birds this morning singing sweet.)
Wake up again ! The sky was crystal clear,
And washed quite clean with rain ;
And tar below my heart stirred with the year,
Stirred with the year and sighed. O pallid feet
Move now at last, O heart that sleeps with pain
Rise up and hear
The voices in the valleys, run to meet
The songs and shadows. O wake up again !
Put out green leaves, dead tree, put out green leaves t
(Last night the moon was soft and kissed the air.)
Put out green leaves ! The moon was in the skies,
All night she wakes and weaves.
The dew was on the grass like fairies' eyes,
Like fairies' eyes. O trees so black and bare,
Remember all the fruits, the full gold sheaves;
For nothing dies,
The songs that are, are silences that were,
Summer was Winter. O put but green leaves!
Break through the earth, pale flower, break through the earth !
(All day the lark has sung a madrigal.)
Break through the earth that lies not lightly yet
And waits thy patient birth,
Waits for the jonquil and the violet,
The violet. Full soon the heavy pall
Will be a bed, and in the noon of mirth
Some rivulet
Will bubble in my wilderness, some call
Will touch my silence. O break through the earth.
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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My darling’s arm lies over me
My darling’s arm lies over me
and it’s as if the silence
gets a deeper new meaning.
I lie on my back and she on her side
and our heads touch hot
against each other and forever
I can stay like this against her.
I feel her breath softly
blowing against my ear
and there’s intimacy
with her hand
clinging to my breast
and the sun is already high.
Outside there’s blue air
coming through the window
and she sleeps peaceful
and the light wind
jerks and jerks leaves
of the potato trees
and there’s a cool breeze
intruding through the open window
into the room
and I lightly
stroke her soft back.
It’s nice to lie together
in bed on a Sunday morning
and to have you’re darling
lying against you
and her toes that stick out small
from under the duvet
is perfect in form and size
like those of the first woman
and her womanly beauty
pervades me strongly
while she sleeps on unaware
and I see a big pink-brown nipple
rising up and down while she breaths
and like a photograph
it’s framed into my mind.
My darling’s arm lies over me
and it’s as if the silence
that stretches out long
gets a deeper new meaning.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Shared Fire
light the fire...
put on some coffee!
i care enough to listen,
if you care enough to talk.
the wall of angry silence
between us must fall....
this road is long,
and we have a long way to go!
what we feel when no one
can see us, when no one
else is near, when darkness
wraps us up in secretive blankets,
must come to light!
this world full of danger and hate,
the earth itself moans for change!
bodies walk by in ghostlike trance,
empty stares, feet moving without sound....
mouths open, waiting for deliverence....
the snowlike stillness swallows need,
new birth groans beneath frozen death....
we are the candle, we are the flame,
the road waits, as if a friend!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Pantoum
Follow me child
Past the stillness of this land
Chase me beyond the rainbow
Farther than the eye can see
Past the stillness of this land
There lies a truth in every pain
Farther than they eye can see
The horizon stretches beyond pale
There lies a truth in every pain
A child in every soul
The horizon stretches beyond pale
Beyond the knowledge of this world
A child in every soul
Seeking answers in their quest
Beyond the knowledge of this world
Follow me child
poem by Liberty Smart
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Inside me was the stillness
Woven, high between bare branches
rooks nests gather where new growth sprouts,
amidst the stillness inside me.
A tiny blue tit twittering,
flitters towards a coconut,
feeding the stillness inside me
The sky, open, glistening blue,
white clouds sailing, a seagull soaring,
through the stillness inside me.
A purple pansy perfect as the stillness inside me
until............
people came
knocking, ringing, wanting
Then the stillness was gone.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Wednesday Morning Silence
At eleven O’clock in the morning,
I sit experiencing the stillness
of a Wednesday morning silence coming down.
It seems much earlier,
though the day is half done
after a fun filled Tuesday
that lasted long into the night.
I sit experiencing the stillness
and wondering in the silence
after the rain had come down.
The absent drip of raindrops
sounds like time ticking away
in the Wednesday morning silence coming down.
Sitting on my friends deck
as a cooling breeze rustles the leaves
in the silence of the morning
as I wait for everyone to wake
in a Wednesday Morning silence coming down
while I am on holiday.
poem by David Harris
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Thunderous Snow!
thunderous snow,
born o'er dark silent mountains;
the final prayer,
the last turn of the plow.
air frozen and heavy,
the wind shakes the bones,
the bare trees wait,
naked, and obedient.
time come and gone,
the memory of a kiss fades
into the deep stillness,
and the sleep of the soul.
cries of passion lost,
in the darkness so deep,
that ending and beginning are one!
the hunter stares,
his shadow twisted by moonlight,
the faint taste of flesh,
dried blood on his lips.
a few flurries, a drumbeat,
the wolf howls, no sound!
stillness wraps around fire,
the fields pray empty prayers.
thunderous snow,
love, and cosmos!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Into the Stillness
Stillness,
fades from an
awakening memory,
sounds return
wheels humming
waving quietly
into the nights air
into the cool September air
amidst the darkness
tears began to fall
like rain
Looking into the
fading stillness
the border quickly
fades,
into the darkness,
into the stillness,
into September's chill
Before drifting off
to sleep
at the September crossing
I said, 'good-bye'
stillness now gone
as the memory returns
poem by M. Rene Riel
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Monastery
Up the long flight of stairs
every tread echoes from stone walls
as if to comment on how stillness
tells of sound its silent origin.
In the quiet library, the central table
bears a careful written message:
‘Silence is spoken here’..
and that’s truer than
at first it seems to read;
round the walls, shelves of books
as silent as the monks
standing upright in their stalls
witness words that seek to share;
yet ultimately, wave fare well, turn back;
speak of silence sought and silence found;
yet cannot speak of silence;
in the name of silence, take a book,
well-worn, from off the shelf;
meet it in the silence of the room,
read a few words, and lay it down;
glance at the other readers round the room;
fall still.
Here, silence speaks of stillness;
stillness joys in silence.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Blame It On God
i hear the clamor,
i feel the roar.
waves pounding against the rocks,
bare feet walking the tiny cell.
the lies we've told
much less than the lies we've become.
blame it on god,
and kill the insurrection.
for every bite we take,
another does without.
for every turn of the page,
another grave is dug.
we pray to war,
afraid to sleep by ourselves.
and borrow from the darkness,
to silence the dawn.
even the children of hate,
cry, shit, and need.
we throw rocks at the dogs,
smoke churning from the stack.
with blood on our lips,
we recite the faceless chant.
walk away from the fires,
cold and unaffected.
god shakes the lice from her head,
covering bodies with ashes and dirt.
rocks the orphan in stillness,
feeds the begger from her breasts.
cleans the urine and pus,
from the old woman dying.
holds the shaking addict,
hears the murderer's prayer.
fills the bowls of the hungry,
covers the homeless with blankets.
sits all night in the cell
of the falsely condemned.
walks like moonlight
through the barelimbed trees,
to stand outside your window...
or could it be just the wind?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Do Not The
do not the leaves love the tree
even as they fall...
and moths love the flame
into which they die?
and shadows in the night
love the stillness,
as they lay down to meet the dawn?
so love then is a series of deaths,
and each funeral has a face...
it is in the stillness when breath is taken,
that we learn to touch
with the eyes of body and soul!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lions and Cages
A vacuum lies between the brunt
of the grinding fangs - and here lies
the trepidation like a cold epitaph
waiting to be discovered under
the slumber of the dying autumn grass
because in the stillness of this
nurtured dessication of quintessence
I am a lion and I my own cage.
poem by Norman Santos
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Traveling Light
As I continue on my journey
I'm beginning to travel light
Preparing myself for tomorrow
the distance is out of sight
my suitcase is old and tattered
backpack is old and shattered
shoulder bag is not leather
imitation, I do think
waters of clear crystal
how I long to drink
threads breaking loose, unravel
many steps left to travel
so many things are idols
I don't need anymore
I'll understand it better
when I reach the other shore
learning to clear my pathway
for tomorrow is a better day
burden of this life
will suddenly wash away
in the stillness of the night
I'm beginning to travel light.
poem by Heather Burns
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