Walking silence

When I walk through noisy city streets with the occasional siren, the roar of traffic, bells from trams and squeal from flanged wheels, noisy conversation I find it quite easy to achieve an inner silence. Using the analogy of Pythagoras I become an onlooker to the threads of busy interwoven lives. I can feel silent, walk mindfully feeling the move of body and noticing the interplay of light and the varied tones and timbres of the ambient noise. In a cafe i might strain to hear conversation but noise can be diminished.

By contrast walking in the silence of the Belair national park with the dog or quiet suburban rainswept streets my thoughts plague me like white noise, truly aggravating as worries, fears and desires crowd my awareness. In the city the noise holds my internal silence. In external silence my internal noise seems to shriek out. Good to note, good to reflect upon and another opportunity to investigate the lived experience of noise and silence within my subjectivity.

Haiku for a cold winter's morning

This winter Sunday,
Hard rain gives way to soft sun,
A steamy homage

Sunlight inter sects,
Curling strands of translucent clouds
Like wispy garments

Voice of rain demands
That we attend to her commands,
Falling cold on steel.

Silence breaks out
Of cold insistent embrace
This prison cell

As she now steps out,
Dripping from the eaves of my house
Magpies find their voice.

There is a silence
Beyond the deepest silence
A true homecoming

Sunlight's pale touch
Wipes gently away the chill
That pervades soul.

Weekend weariness,
Driving through the wet from church
Eucharistic faith

Drinking hot coffee,
Gazing through my damp window
Deep silence within.

Tomorrow I face,
A meeting that may well shape
a season of grace.

Sunlight or cold damp,
The inner fire of holy faith
A Heracletian flame

Time to drop down deep
Into the silent still pool
The silence of being. 

The discipline of haiku,
Written on the hasty run
No perfection here.

Thinking of family,
All far away from my aloneness
This morning's prayer.

Steamy mist rises
Like smoke from fragrant incense,
Bowing to the sun.