SPOKEN

It was a cool clear djeran day
We climbed into Sylvia’s car and headed into the country
There was a hidden forest she wanted to show me
A private place
Special to her

An hour’s drive from town
It sat just at that point where the city passes into the country
One of those lines you cross without knowing
A subtle change of key

We pulled off the road
Scrambled from the car
And headed into the wood
At once a deep calm settled upon us
A glowing peace that was both in us and in the world
Even Sylvia’s excitable dog felt it
She ran ahead but didn’t bark

The further we went into the forest
The stronger the feeling became
We didn’t talk
Merely basked in the deep serenity
Rich and mystical
Numinous, if you will

Soft sunlight filtered through the trees
Cast long shadows
Marking a kind of pathway
A grid of inter-cutting arcades
While the pine-needles cushioning the earth
Softened our footfall

The stillness gathered round us was somehow spiritual
Like a cathedral
A cathedral en plein air

The silence of Sylvia’s pines
The silence of Sylvia’s pines

© Ian Lilburne 1981 | 2018