Suddenly

Suddenly

And then suddenly, the roads no longer propel the hours in straight lines—no longer repetitions of the same moments returning again and again... Is it not silence that appears, all at once? You look around, bewildered: an infinity of winding paths.

And what of the beauty, so often sung by poets? The silence portrayed in every form of prose? Artists, weaving words from emotion, reveal themselves to be mere impressions of their own imagination.

Whispers everywhere, carried by a cold so intense, their words just out of reach. A winter landscape overgrows every path. Though the icy murmurs seek more and more to tell their tale—it's not the freezing that holds me still, but rather an energy that shelters every whisper.

Not yet audible, yet it gives me so much. A never-before-met sense of peace—not with the whole world, with all its sorrow, nor with my own valley of tears, so often unspoken—but with an unknown lover of the heart. All-encompassing: the splendor of creation.

In unspeakable words, it tells me so clearly of the greatness of existence. In which this small life, fleeting as it is, feels so tiny and insignificant next to this infinite beauty. Where I, on winding paths, suddenly see warmth again—together with the winter landscape.

Finally, at home once more in the silence of my being.

 🙏 W.O.L.