Poem: The Doorway of Quiet
When life gets quiet (and quiet it will),
When noise fades away and the world holds still,
When chatter goes soft and the rush disappears,
And you’re left with your thoughts… and your questions… and fears—
Most folks get uneasy. They reach for a sound,
A screen, or a voice, or some busyness found.
They fill up the silence, they turn up the noise,
Distracting themselves with a thousand small toys.
But what if that quiet—that pause in the day—
Was not something to fear, but a doorway, a way?
A place you could enter, not run from or fight,
But sit down beside, and stay for a while?
For quiet’s a space where the truth likes to land,
Not shouted or forced, but gently and grand.
It doesn’t arrive with a bang or a shout—
It slips softly in when the noise has gone out.
You carry your worries, your doubts, and your strain,
The stories that circle again and again.
“What should I do?” and “What if I’m wrong?”
They spin in your mind like a well-practiced song.
But quiet can loosen that tight little knot,
Not by solving it all—but by giving you thought.
Not frantic, not fearful, not chasing a fix—
Just sitting with what is, without any tricks.
You don’t need a method, a rule, or a plan,
No guru, no system, no “yes, you must can.”
Just sit for a moment, let thinking grow still,
And feel what you’re feeling—no push and no will.
At first it feels awkward. Your mind wants to race,
To jump in with answers, to quicken the pace.
But stay just a moment, then stay just a bit—
And something quite subtle begins to unknit.
The noise starts to settle, the urgency slows,
A space opens up—and something new grows.
Not answers all perfect, not plans carved in stone,
But a sense that you’re not in this struggle alone.
For underneath thinking, beneath all the sound,
Is a quieter knowing that waits to be found.
It doesn’t push loudly or beg to be heard—
It speaks in a feeling, more soft than a word.
You’ve known it before, in a moment so slight—
A sense that things somehow will turn out just right.
Not because reasons are lined up in rows,
But because something deeper already knows.
So next time life quiets, don’t rush to escape,
Don’t fill every silence with noise you create.
Sit down with the stillness, let everything be—
And see what arises… quite naturally.
Let’s Reflect:
Do you enjoy quiet times or do you rush to fill up the silence with various sounds? What do the quiet times bring along?
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