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Chatterbox

Ah, what a chatterbox I am! I have had nothing to say for over three years.... Animals have gone from the farm, new ones have come and made the place home. It is we humans who seem like visitors only.

Vegetables have grown, many have been overgrown and lost, as the weeds always seem to grow just a little faster.

Perhaps some words are like that too. They leap from between our lips too quickly, without fore-thought. The not-so-good, the unkind words jump ahead of all others, and suddenly the situation has changed, and the kind and good words have no room left to emerge and bear fruit.

And thoughts, the thoughts of sinking slowly into sadness, the fight, the ideals getting quiet, becoming just a mumble, and then falling silent, too. Self-negating thoughts, thoughts that can be denied by other thoughts even before they are fully there, that deny themselves, that think themselves to extinction.

The first snow has fallen on the farm. Everything is waiting for the big sleep. Perhaps a time when there are fewer sounds is a good time to listen and not be overwhelmed, and to learn to speak again, to not be afraid of the sound of "I want," "I love," "I feel," "I believe."
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Philip Dodd said…
I'd like to hear more about your farm, please write more often.
4:17 am
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