Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Quietude





Wisdom hurts 
Like a broken nose
It cannot be touched lightly
Its damage is done
It can’t be unspoken
Rewinding the clock doesn’t heal its bruising
Even without batteries it keeps ticking
Only more can be spoken 
Even its silence is speech 
Beware of its soft words 
Many bones are broken by them
Its quietude is as cloaked daggers
That which has been done in silence is worthy of the Father
To possess this Word is to hear its silence
For it acts through what is spoken
And is known through its silence
Its mysteries were loudly proclaimed
Yet are accomplished in the silence of God







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