Silence speaks louder than a herd of Bison a thousand thundering hooves pounding the Plains chasing the only freedom they know Yet the ones that hear it are rare, nurturing with utmost care the right conditions for inviting it in Their thousand crowding thoughts stop pounding, knowing what discipline can offer what silence might proffer when letting it in as if it were light illumination as bright to behold yet offering itself from darkness
Your contrast between the roaring chaos of a bison stampede and the intentional, disciplined quiet required to welcome silence is a powerful reminder that true illumination often begins in the dark ✨
Your poem reminds me that silence is not the absence of sound. It is the absence of distraction.
Most of us spend our lives trying to outrun the noise in our heads, assuming peace is something we'll stumble across once everything else quiets down. But your poem suggests the opposite. Silence isn't waiting for us. It waits for us to become the kind of people who can hear it.
I especially loved the idea that silence must be invited in. That's harder than it sounds. It requires discipline, trust, and a willingness to stop filling every empty space with words, plans, or worry.
Beautifully written. Thank you for the reminder that sometimes the loudest truths arrive without making a sound.
Your contrast between the roaring chaos of a bison stampede and the intentional, disciplined quiet required to welcome silence is a powerful reminder that true illumination often begins in the dark ✨
Thanks, Brandi, I went back and forth on that!
Your poem reminds me that silence is not the absence of sound. It is the absence of distraction.
Most of us spend our lives trying to outrun the noise in our heads, assuming peace is something we'll stumble across once everything else quiets down. But your poem suggests the opposite. Silence isn't waiting for us. It waits for us to become the kind of people who can hear it.
I especially loved the idea that silence must be invited in. That's harder than it sounds. It requires discipline, trust, and a willingness to stop filling every empty space with words, plans, or worry.
Beautifully written. Thank you for the reminder that sometimes the loudest truths arrive without making a sound.
Des, this is so beautiful, it almost made me cry. Thank you. This means everything.
I really enjoyed this. The image of silence offering itself from darkness stayed with me. Thank you for these quiet and thoughtful words.
Thanks, Antonio. That means a lot. It was the central element here, and the first time I’ve tried to convey it.