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.
My house shoes lined with fleece warm my feet. They are on and I’ve slipped into the silence.
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A great way to begin and end a day. Thanks for stopping by, Meredith.
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Ah, yes, there’s nothing like sitting in silence and listen to your heartbeat. Lovely poem, LuAnne.
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Glad you could join me, Annie.
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Happy to, LuAnne.
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What a beautiful photo! To complement your poem on silence!
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How lovely – your words and your photograph…so quiet and assuring.
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I love the simile of slippers in this poem – it conjures up the feeling of silent solitude so well. A place that’s cosy rather than inner turmoil.
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Purple is my favourite colour! The thought of slipping me feet into them already has me feeling serene 🙂
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