I slip into silence like my old purple house shoes
to relax in comfort inside, alone
or maybe with just my best friend or lover
eluding a boisterous world.
I slip into silence to hear the internal
like breathing and heartbeats and wind at the window
but if sequestered in silence too long
the wellspring of social connections runs dry.
So when is it time to pull on my work boots and
negotiate terms at the office?
Or tap out the rhythm of chatting with friends?
Or weather a storm in galoshes?
When is it time to slip back again
to the soft solitude of silence?
I’ll ponder these quandaries
in my old purple house shoes
at the end of this clamorous day.
I have an extra pair, dear friend,
if you’d like to sit in silence with me
and listen to your heartbeat.