Silence shadows me, like a soft cloud of hope.

It transports me through my wildest dreams, takes me to places unheard of, new destinations; transports me along exciting roads, with wild aspirations. The golden rays of ideas blossoming inside my brain, at the centre of my heart, the core of my being. List upon list upon list of things to do, places to see and ideas to think and write about. Hundreds of haikus, and a few villanelles, sestinas and triolets thrown in. Wonderful ways to work my brain.  So little time left on this planet, today or tomorrow might be my last; who knows, it might be your last… beautiful silence.

Silence shadows me,  like a soft cloud of hope.

It sends my little grey cells off to work, even through meditation and hypnosis. The quieter I am, the more I can be, the clearer my thinking, the louder my thoughts. The quieter I am, the more self doubt disappears, the more wonder appears. The bigger the volumes of books appear. Yesterdays filter through the dust mites of my brain, like fireflies glowing in the dark. The recesses of my mind, forgotten or ignored, if not for the blaze of intimate silence.

Silence shadows me, like a soft cloud of hope.

So loud it speaks to me, wondrous calm and serenity, the voice of deeper thinking, more respect and awe. Moments of silence, enabling dementia to become gracious and meaningful, bringing with it a profound sense of purpose and tranquillity. The quieting of grief and loss, the hushed settling tomes of a more reflective love and understanding. The shadowing of silence, pushing me onwards and upwards, towards the end. No more thoughts, no more dreams, no more words, no more chances to make amends, just the ultimate silence.

Silence speaks when words can’t, like a soft cloud of hope.