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Silence

Every writer must examine their work
It must be sought out
Reabsorbed
Considered
Evaluated
And judged

Not by the reader does this avail
Nor by the public is there made account

It is in the heart of the writer
Where truth must be examined
And weighed
So that there is justice to words
And rightness to ones soul

Silence of Words
is required

Silence of Thought
Opinion
Blabber
And testimony

I have taken the days and nights
To measure my words
Against the purity of my Heart
As is only just to do
And found Wanting

It can only be said
That many of my words and thoughts must be gifts
For indeed they are more Perfect than I
And I find them better than I
And with purity beyond me

What does a man do
When his words are more just than he is?
When the grace of visions are beyond his personal intelligence?
When the Message is not even known to him?
When the greatness discovered astonishes He who wields the pen?

It strikes fear in the heart
To use our most powerful tool of words
When the tool itself molds itself
Into a tapestry beyond the artistry of he who weaved

I am a creature of flesh
Made of blood and bone
And found with cut and bruise and tainted Armor
Given to earthly desires
Hunted always by the hounds of Hell

Yet that which has shaped itself
From my own fingers into
Pattern and phrase
And thought and message
Is Clean and found of Purpose

Where I can find no eternal purpose to my life
I can find eternal reason in the light
Of words given to me

So in silence
From this moment until before
Have I sought humility
To know my place among the blessing
Set within The Spirit
That resides beyond my comprehension

I write not to teach
But to learn
Because the lesson has been given to me
In order that I may be made more perfected
By that Light who has found favor to teach me

Indeed my words are foolishness
To mighty men
Most certainly to men of old
Yet I can find no more beautiful truth
Than what is given to me to reveal to myself

Let it not be said that there is found glory in me
For what artist can claim such a thing?
And what scribe can write such a law?
And who among us all can explain the nature of our words?

When silence speak loudest of all.

Ryan o0o

 

Copyright © 2013
Ryan Ranney – Ranney Studios
All Rights Reserved

By | 2017-08-22T00:27:15+00:00 April 5th, 2015|Infinite Dreaming|

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