STITCHED IN SILENCE

WE’RE THE POEM … the closing words of last evening’s post. Such thoughts lead on to other thoughts. And quite often – by means of what appear serendipitous connections – to the thoughts of others.

Mark Nepo says that “the search for authenticity is as basic as lungs needing air … there are a thousand openings to being real. No-one can name or master them all. But we don’t have to. We only have to find one, breathe deeply, and leap”. And he goes on:

That leap of authenticity is poetry. Sometimes it’s written. Sometimes it’s stitched in silence … And the poetry of authenticity can connect us to the Wholeness of humanity and the Universe at any time in any way.

It’s in the longing for what might be called a “poetry of connection”, for intimacy, sometimes tactile, sometimes written, and sometimes silent – that I begin to apprehend God – and quiet hints as to what we might hope will be eternal connections.

What a comfort, that when “lost” in wonder there’s a poem being wrought in that very “lostness”, the very yearning and reaching that constitutes the silence …