And another one

Pay attention

Only profound silence

makes that rushing sound,

akin to the flight of blood

from the heart to the head,

or to the tissue-paper rustle of a crowd

dancing to music so loud it’s in your teeth.

The slide under the thud; the torrent over the pulse.

You can live in that sound.

It makes for thought so deep

that when a bird slams into the window

or the phone rings

you’re burst open

and need a moment to see that nothing has changed,

you are where you were;

though the curved corners of your mind will echo

with the blows of a fierce and clamorous argument.

It will serve you well

to plumb the depths of this type of silence.

Sinking, you will come to rest on a solid bed;

rising, you’ll ascend steady as a diver,

and break the surface, open your mouth

and speak.

(First published in New Contrast 164 Vol 41, No 4)