There is a place of Quiet
back beyond your hopes, fears, your dreams.
Don’t listen any longer
to those thieves.
as they keep you gazing stupidly at the patterns
bouncing about your fevered mind.
Listen instead for Silence,
quieter than a tiny bug crawling through dry leaves somewhere
behind your fear.
Listen to your Self,
answering your own prayers back beyond thought,
in the silence behind your head,
before your memory, after your death,
beyond your dreams and desires,
and your anger at their coyness.
Be still, there’s no need to hurry.
We will all meet again,
in the quiet peace before our names were born …
back of beyond.