A Poem About Quiet

Photo by Felix Mittermeier on Pexels.com

Last summer, a friend introduced me to Jericho Writers, a writing community and business that aims to help writers navigate the craft and the world of publishing. I signed up for their Summer Festival of Writing, and then joined as a regular member.

I am finally, at long last, catching up on some of the webinars from last summer, and slowly working my way through their library of non-summer-festival videos.

The other day, I started the Quiet Poetry Workshop with Dean Atta, a British poet with the most relaxing voice and the kindest demeanor in, quite possibly, the entire world. As I was watching while folding laundry, I didn’t quite manage to keep up with what was going on, but I did use it as inspiration for a short poem I wrote after all the clothes were folded.

~A Few Words About Quiet~

The sounds overwhelm
All day and into the night:

The traffic on the road,
The crash of the sea on the shore,
The sirens wailing towards horrors and hospitals.

And I feel full to bursting—

Desperate for the stillness of a pond
A canoe gliding over water
Lying on my back on a sun-warmed dock
The buzz of deer flies and horseflies
The only interruptions.

Desperate for the quiet of a morning, cold and crisp
The land blanketed by snow or wet, soggy fallen leaves.
The quiet ringing out across the fields
The scratch of a snow shovel on pavement
Taking turns in my ears.

The sounds overwhelm
All day and into the night:

The whirring from helicopters above,
The pulsing from heavy trucks underfoot,
The heavy bass spilling from a nearby car.

And I feel full to bursting—

Desperate for the wail of a loon, the wind in the trees, a stillness that echoes,
The only sounds
In this silence
This quiet
This calm

That I yearn for.

Published by helenkamakura

Helen is a Canadian writer and innkeeper based in Kamakura, Japan, where she lives with her Japanese husband and two children. If money became obsolete, she would happily accept peaches, fresh peas, and sun-warmed cherry tomatoes in exchange for her labour.

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