I live in silences

When I said “I live in silences” to my husband, it was a complaint. Part of a litany of how awful I felt at the time, at home recovering from a stressful period in my work life, with sons and husband wrapped up in their own affairs thus leaving me feeling ignored. Only a few days later, having taken the initiative to fill my silences, I was happy to sit in the garden, alone, silent. Yes, I could hear cars on the street (not that many, we are in a quiet suburb), and our 4 pet hens call calling gently to point out that they are still in their pen and can they come out to scoff the flowers now please, but I had no one to talk to and yet was content.

I had spent most of the day reading, painting, writing and applying for jobs. Silence is restful when it is purposeful, perhaps?

Maybe, like the night, we need to reclaim silence.

I live in silences.

The unease of an empty house

The loneliness of children gone

The sadness of a lover away

The concentration of a painting class

The contemplation of piece of art

Busy baking, waiting for family to return

Tramping on a long country walk

Song birds in the garden

Hens around my feet

Quiet to read the difficult book

Peace to find the space where I am me.

            Copyright © 2015 Kim Whysall-Hammond

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