The Silence of Disconnection
In the silence, arguments rise like dust devils;
chasing wind that whisks them away.
The noise of dissent is a cacophony,
a symphony of sciolism played on instruments,
shrill and piercing, up to now barren of harmony.
It silences the brain and numbs the shame.
Philosophers whisper revelations in conceit;
as counterpoints reign, the din of discord deafens the mind.
A single leaf rustles in stillness;
a solitary sound that pierces the din, it recedes, unspoken.
Arguments are sheer rituals now;
performed by the puffed up and proud,
to validate their own world.
We wander lost, seeking connection;
but finding none, in this wilderness of words.
Silence is a wall, impenetrable and strong;
behind which we hide from chaos, our ears, our minds,
our own intellect. But what if we chose to listen preferably?
To bend our ears to whispers of the land?
To quiet the din and hear the rectitude unfold?
Prospectively, we find consolation in stillness?
Unity in judgement that words are not ample?
Or demand we confront our own emptiness?
Silence is a veil for our own fears; and accruings lies
beyond the din and noise, we hide from the occurrences
we seek to uncover.
We must learn to quiet the noise within;
hear whispers of our own hearts beating.
Find our way back to pureness of life.
In silence, we might find what we’ve sought;
the foundation that lies beyond the din and noise,
acumen that only stillness can bestow.
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