One Must First Become Small

Beyond the Question, 1

The phoebe sits on her nest
Hour after hour,
Day after day,
Waiting for life to burst out
From under her warmth.

Can I weave a nest for silence,
Weave it out of listening,
Listening,
Layer upon layer?

But one must first become small, 
Nothing but a presence,
Attentive as a nesting bird,
Proffering no slightest wish,
No tendril of a wish
Toward anything that might happen
Or be given,
Only the warm, faithful waiting,
Contained in one’s smallness.

— May Sarton
Collected Poems 1930-1993
Photo credit: Georgia Sparling

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Go outside and feel that you are part of the largeness of creation. 

What is your relationship with silence and stillness?

What happens for you when you try to sit still in silence? How do you maintain a state of inner stillness through the noise and demands of your daily life?