My Silence : The Writer
Silence, not only do I hear it, but I Fear it with equal animosity. There are no Vibrations, still , empty and unable, for even a Whisper to my own Heart. Unlike Sight with all its sharp shaded inconsistencies and colored incongruities .
This Silence I Own ! Unlike any Prepared Silences, mine hold my hand, where yours , Flirts and Flits Circuitously and Perpendicular, to any and every Nuance and mine sits and waits for even the smallest of rewards, yet knowing fully well the reward has been paid in full , as to , being New Borne , is as to aged mockery. Silence is not just a mere physical adaptation, with my Psyche, the open dogeared chapters. Sight and the other senses are of , Tangent, grapple, view & audition , experience new Visual Ques , experience " The Love of the Arts."
My Silence is Deafening , in its completeness . At the drop of a hat, it Attacks ! Viscous , Loud and Querulous, Slanted Slamming, direct and Deathly Dedicated to the Weathers Whim. Nature , in my Silence is the Apex Predator and I am lees than any prey. I can never run away , crawl or walk , these attacks have corrupted my Hard Drive and brought me to my knees ! At times , I am the Dark in a World of Light and my Essence calls out for any Hinge, a Lever.
I am Blessed ... I am Cursed, you decide ! There are times , or maybe , Spaces in that long series of eye opening and eye closing. I feel a presence in this great empty stillness . Auditory Light, a inspirational Vibration of Excellence and Expression of Awareness, So To ! . . . I AM NOT ALONE !
THE WRITER
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