The luxury of solitude, the bliss of holy silence
The drawing inward of the mind away from aural violence
The fruit of contemplation: hearing inner voices speak
Setting free the deeper, rising thoughts suppressed throughout the week
The probing knife of criticism turned upon the self
Like justice the two-edged sword- How we hate to yield it
Hold tightly to the hilt lest others wrest and turn and wield it
We gladly take the love of God, another shining sabre
We want to keep possession of, and not spare for our neighbour
So carve another private dream, an offering on the shelf

HJ May 18, 2009