A Silence of Such Fullness

We think of prayer, often, as words.

And it can be.

But I loved this, from Peggy Rosenthal's Knit One, Purl a Prayer: "[there was] a rich substance in the silence after the monks' chanting of each psalm."

There are silences that are empty. There are silences that are fraught with tension.

But this silence, the kind that Rosenthal describes, was a "pause where the action was."

For me, such silence can come after a living-psalm. Like this past Sunday, when I lay down near the river, and the day felt endless and the water felt forever-deep.

Where do you experience the fullness of a silence? Maybe it is time for some kind of psalm...

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Blogger Maureen said...

We answer

how but in a silence
of such fullness does . . .

a river run forever
deep, the night spread
full its cape of silvered
studs, the moon empty
into a day just paused,
the sun swell to close
the space between this
rising and this falling
of the unstilled heart

Anonymous Lyla Lindquist said...

I had a comment. I lost it after I read Maureen's poem. :)

But really, the pause, the silence has been my very favorite part of the trips I've taken to the monastery. The pause after the psalm.

And funny that it takes the sound beforehand for me to appreciate the silence.

Blogger Jody Lee Collins said...

I'm with Lyla--there IS no comment after reading Maureen's poem.

I've been living/dwelling in Psalm 37--'dwell in the land,and cultivate faithfulness'--just gonna stay there for a while.

Laura, very thought provoking.
Thank you.

Blogger Connie said...

Just in this:Be still and know that I Am GOD...


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