August 1, 2007 by Melody Newey
2007 Poetry Contest 3rd Place Winner
Come to the temple of silence,
away from sounds of weary want,
from the grinding, the tearing of time.
Come away from shouting daylight and
find me in the stillness of your afternoon;
your ordinary afternoon.
Put down your swords, your plowshares;
take up my burden, my quiet,
easy burden. Carry it beneath your arm
with flute and mandolin.
Carry it in your heart, beside
memories of your mother and apple red
trees in summer.
Whisper my name. Then listen.
Listen, perhaps for a very, very long time,
or only for a heart beat.
And I will tell you who I am.
I will tell you who you are and show you
where we meet, in you, the holy place, in silence.
Melody Newey earns a living as a registered nurse and lives to write. She loves how heaven spills into the world through art. She is the mother of three mostly-grown children.