Silence

Some are not comfortable with my silences, grown long as shadows in the afternoon.
They think there is something wrong, but that is not so.
It is my nature to observe, and to contemplate, and silence is natural to me as breathing.

It is possible to meditate in a crowd
to know onepointedness and nothing else
to walk slowly, feet bare in cool grass, and feel each blade bend underfoot
to converse with the dead, hear their voices and smell their scents
to re-experience a moment in time
to communicate non-verbally, feel that wordless flow between myself and another
to reflect upon the nature of consciousness and existence for a heartbeat or an hour.

Silence is timeless as the soul is limitless.
Some do not know this, and so it stretches for them like a rubberband, waiting to snap.