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MORNING SONNET

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DEEP SILENCE

 

 

DEEP SILENCE

 

The fullness of his silence that reigns supreme,

Over loves and hatreds, beds of reeds that bind

The mire and marsh of gross meandering mind,

Immutably voids the wayward waking dream

Of teeming life, such solid stuff it seems!

How to discern when stupidly groping blind

The folly befalling our benighted kind?

In a pool of deep silence we glimpse a gleam.

 

The One at peace within, without a doubt,

Is known to dwell in silence that's divine,

Where sound no clash of cymbals 'I' or 'mine'.

The silent eye centred in the storm looks out

From stillness, sacred gaze; the world's a sign,

A play of light on water, dancing round about.

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