Birgit Bunzel Linder
A Quiet Life - Poem by Birgit Bunzel Linder
Today we walked out of our dream
to sit on the brown bench again,
right across the bare white rocks
that soften the sea.
A summer evening
when we are both quiet,
entranced by the colors of the six o’clock sun
that flicker over the ocean,
mesmerized by the inaudible life
that hangs in the air.
When leaves rustle in the breeze
you whisper, “I think it is a poem.”
“It came like water, and like wind it goes, ”
I whisper back.
Far away, a sail silently glides from east to west.
I look at you and smile.
Our hearts, too, once crossed over
from one shore to another,
docking on stillness,
picking up each other’s thoughts
like little sparrows their crumbs.
Between the waves,
words become slower.
We deny ourselves
the clamor of theories.
We hide away from
the noise of aesthetics.
We hover in life
Our feelers as hushed as hibiscus.
We have not yet used up the real.
We know the coming of death.
Still, we sit on the brown bench,
with the sea and the rocks.
When we are both quiet.
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