On this Sunday morning when stillness and silence exist side by side,
Cherish these handmaidens,these exponents of peace,these envoys of rest.
When noise and clamour threaten to rob you,guard the spaces in between in sounds,
For they are the silent ones,the golden ones,the pauses that offer breath to the new melody.
As music fills the air on this new day,allow the golden ones to permeate you,listen for me,
When conversations are had with family ,or friend,listen to what is said,and listen intently to what isn’t said.
Those golden sounds,those golden words might be frightened,insecure even,but they are there,they are always there.
So,today,as the birds in the trees sing their songs,listen out for the golden ones,because they matter.
When today you think that you are listening,make sure that you observe your conversation partner,listen to them ,
As listening is an art,and many of us have spent our whole life in pursuit of it,give it time,those golden times are the outposts of our existence.
I would give my possession to receive the epitaph “He was a good listener”,for in those 4 words there is an essence that defines my existence.
Happy Sunday everyone.