The Stillness

The Stillness. The roaring brook did shine upon the wet rocks, as does the sun and the moon on the new fallen snow. I walk alone, alone having only one thought in mind. Some God must have made all this Listen, listen, to the sounds. The brook, the car, the bird, the airplane, the wind, all have their own sound breaking into the stillness. But still not fazing it. If the sun and the moon can say it any better, let them. I heard their cry in a snow flakes, eye. The same stillness. Only more. If I were Lord over all that came, all that is past and all that is to come, I would say Amen again and again with only stillness in my glee. There seems to be a well of stillness, ever flowing into the sea of life, from whence there is no escape. I am a part, you are a part. There is a heaven or hell into which we have all died. A blessed stillness, a barrier that divides God from man. A stillness, with Love and reverence for it. For before it, is God.