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"Finally, if I were quiet long enough,
I might hear you;
I might know you,
whereas before I knew
my perceptions of you,
dallied with words about you,
images pointing to you" -
all these
like a photograph of a sunset
I was not present to see
or a poem to another person's lover
I have never held in my arms.
Reflections on the river
are not the tree limbs swaying above.
The most hallowed shadows
are shadows... intimations...
the whole creation of created things
can do no more than hint
of secrets only Grace can write
upon her beloved's heart.
I implore, "Yes, clean the heart-mirror -
even of the religious, the spiritual, the good...
so I shall see myself, for
seeing you yourself."
Those called 'believers' led me to the bartender
but did not teach me how to drink the Wine -
inebriation seemed a state of dizziness and
loss of self-control,
a threat to what they saw to be common sense.
Yet, common sense is common -
and I longed for the uncommon.
"Intellect - belief, dogma - cannot ingest
until only dregs are left - while
your love ingests
the entire vineyard."
Reflections -
words, symbols, images, teachings, sermons, scriptures... -
failed to satisfy...
like a lover in bed with her beloved,
"Enough of this talking to me.
Make love with me!"
Quivering lips
searched for more,
a tameless taste seducing -
"Yes, if quiet long enough...
I have come to 'see'
I will never know you as you
except in and from the Silence -
the Silence, you are.
Yet, how we shun this Silence,
so shun you,
possibly, more than even death."
The Silence, not just silence, is a death -
the death of the impostor...
my image of myself pretending
to be me.
"If quiet long enough...
I will know myself as I am,
not as I was told I am,
and I will see I am is more beautiful
than I could have ever dreamed
or anyone told me,
even those who loved me most -
for your beauty is mine,
mine yours - a single beauty
and innocence
we share."
I could not see this and more until
I was quiet long enough...
and I was,
and I saw.
* * *
Many
worship words, lovely words,
words to the Beloved, words of Love
while the Friend whispers,
"Be quiet... and
feel the Grace of my lips
kissing your lovely Heart"
*
(C) brian k wilcox, 2026
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