by JordanB

Today a symbol fell from heaven, carrying with it evidence of both its origin and its destination. Sandwiched in between a flash of red and a blade of grass, or between laughter and silence, or between the sunlight and the forest floor. There is no sense of why or how, but only whence and whereto. Today, the dandelions floated by from a lawnmower, like a special effect for the afternoon reverie, so I could sink deeper into a daydream.


There is a time for ‘why.’ Follow that daisy chain further and further back into your metaphysical past. Ask, answer, ask again, to infinity and beyond. Then, finally, when your tongue is swollen, give yourself the silence that you could have learned from the beginning. Do not interrogate the portents from heaven that fall on your lap. There is a neuron in your brain that understands this matter, without speech. Do as it says. If you must speak, know that speech is only the background noise to the efforts of your mind.

There is a time for speech. Speak to others, who do not understand, who desire to understand, who need to understand. Speak to yourself who does not understand, who desires to understand, who needs to understand. Speech fills up our hesitation. When our conscious mind is at a loss and grasping for sense, sending its tentacles into the air to find some purchase, speech coaxes it on. Silence unnerves it. Speech soothes it. There is a time for speech.

And there is a time for silence. Listen to that portent from heaven, that flash of red against the winter white, that dapple of sunlight on the forest floor. Listen, for a long long time. Then get up, and go.