Introspection Silence Poems

Assume not we are body-mind
For this is a concept untrue
So we must leave beliefs behind
To feel within us, wisdom’s hue

If we are not this, who...

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unlike a hermit who is still ~
unconscious minds have no free will...

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Reward silence with gifts of the like for
attention is precious
& know tunnel vision can be a blessing for your
focused expression
This method is a form of...

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During the Deacon Preachin' Weekend 
the deacon recommended unplugging
going offline to avoid screen addiction
no games, not texts, no emails, nothing
disconnecting, in order to connect --
to...

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the stillness centre witnesses all movement 
occurring at the periphery and all points in between
presence sees thus order in seeming chaos
whilst those in the storm,...

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A room's whites cry loud
Still sound fills it with endless echo
No thought, no audible breath, no
Perspective
This view too is
Outside perceivable depth
Only a snowy canvas
Full of...

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They say silence is violence,
But it felt the easiest way to avoid yours.
I never knew how deafening the hush was to your ears.
But don’t think...

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Soft
sighs
soil silence,
since our heart tremors 
are caused by mistaken belief,
that we’re only this form, which is delusion of course,
anchoring our consciousness in ephemeral dreams, which...

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I searched laboriously for you in the cold winter rains,
shivering from the shallowness.
I chased you on the hot, sultry days of summer,
feeling your presence hovering...

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mouth unable to form words
then sounds of desperation
inspired by wisdoms presence
awestruck I retreat into silence
...

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when I close my eyes and enter silence
     I’m drawn into a presence
        ...

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A silent bell, in the tower still,
no more to ring, no more to fill.
Its silence, a story untold,
in its quiet, secrets bold. 

Hanging mute, in...

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I.
In the hush of the first movement,
Silent snowfall plays a soft overture.
Each flake a note, descending gently,
A white serenade to quiet streets.
Nature's breath slows, like...

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Stagnated sin stared straight out to sea
Seeking a scape subdued of such scintillation 
Stars she said should not share the same air

Superstitions shaped in slumber...

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Whatever can silence be?
Is there not always the sound of one’s heart?
Just as with whiteness isn’t there always light?
Isn’t blackness just a canvas for one’s...

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