Make It Silent

Silence has its pain.
Silence carries fatigue.
Silence knows loneliness
within its own existence.
 
To think in silence,
one must first be silent.
To shape silence as formless,
in the spontaneous mind,
one must enter silence.
 
Silence can be fierce,
or still as stone.
Even storms, even rage
can reach silence.
 
Silence can be made one’s own,
sharpened even through noise.
 
A life folded within itself,
an unbroken silence—
like the cemetery,
day and night.