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The Summit, by Kahlil Gibran
Robert L. Martin

Busy Silence

Busy Silence
 
Open spaces not so clear and silent
Constant air moves with pleasure spent
Life never stills, never comes to rest
We pause and yawn, we come to attest
 
When we lay our heads upon our pillows
Open spaces, filled with sleeping willows
Steal away our silence with our busy dreams
Of quiet brooks running with rapid streams
 
When bird songs are muted by our thoughts
Like battles won with triumphant shouts
Nature’s quietudes are forgotten symphonies
Of golden melodies and luscious harmonies
 
I come to take in the silence,
But not the silence to be found
I come to my resting place
With my busy meditations
But not the silence to be found

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