At the Quaker meeting (6)

Again, this space where peace claims me,

this place becomes my Bodhi tree.

Again this quiet room breathes me, and

here again I can tune in to all that troubles and delights me.

Away from the hubbub of the crowd,

the silence fits me like a shroud.

With all these other fellow souls unknown to me,

except a few;

I find that I am guided home.

The silence does not really matter,

occasional cough or muffled clatter of incoming feet.

It is the stillness that gathers within us,

makes this experience so sweet.

It is the stillness, that blossoms within us,

makes this experience so sweet.

I sit with the many and the few,

and find I cleave to what is true,

and gently step into the new.

Habits of behaving and thinking,

are put aside, while I am drinking

the quietness of this breathing room.

I step outside, again, in tune.

Only profound reality, from moment to moment,

makes us free.

Like living water the stillness rakes over our hearts,

that so often break.

And soothes and our numbness and our aches.

The silence does not really matter,

occasional cough or muffled clatter of incoming or outgoing feet.

It is the stillness, that blooms within us;

makes this experience so sweet.

© IDF Andrew

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