BY JAN HAAG
SILENCE
1-17-98
O, beloved, how long was Devayani to
trust the silence,
the communication without words, the
presence
speaking to her each day with the drum?
How was she to
guess the words?
They say the world is more perfect without words,
yet words
are Devayani's medium, her anchor, her love. She
could
not live in this world without
words. Though it seems she
can
live without your presence. For it seems that presence
--
given enough -- goes within. Like the stream
underground, it
nourishes without
being seen, being heard, and,
at times,
emerges from among the black rocks like those
of the Tungabhadra where
Devayani lost her
way, wandered among whispering
ruins, knew the
heat and
the dust of desolation, realized she loved the heat and
dust
of desolation, knew that, alone with her love
of your music,
her trust in silence
brought enough
bliss to last through an
eternity of sweet words, consoling
solitudes, rich remembrances. The
beat of your
drums became the beat of her
heart, and silence.
Copyright © 2000 Jan Haag
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Jan Haag may be reached via e-mail: jhaag@u.washington.edu
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BY JAN HAAG