Quietude

Quietude, hidden
heart like a flower like a mouth.
He is gentle lion, fragrant dark.

Sit, quiet one,
listen to leaf and windflute;
I Am, calling from afar.

Magnolia in my hands,
you are more precious than perfume
and render costly the jar.

Be very still:
I will breathe in you,
lung to blood to heart.

What I write with silence, indelible
is your new name, whiter than bone
and brighter than a star.

The Lover speaks so I listen.
Which earthly voice can compare?
Lean in. I’ll tell you everything you are.

 

View the painting that inspired the poem.


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