No words, no words, they don’t have words

I was welcome in their wordless world

19th January, 2009

I am up early, the light is still soft, grey, and even.

I lit a light, poured water, placed a flower before the tree, and knew the depth of no words.

The tree felt soft, and still at rest. She felt loving towards me, like a mother.

The earth was cold. I was surrounded by the plants of the garden. They included me in their hold, I was welcome.

No words, no words, they don’t have words or need them. I felt the burden of too much talk and its intrusion. I connected with the silent language of symbol – the flame, the water, the offerings. I wanted to be absorbed into their wordlessness, I tried to be and perhaps I was, just a little.

Mr Lincoln* is flowering again, so I smelled the roses.

*a variety of rose with a huge crimson, fragrant flower.