Absinthienne

as one listens silence dispels in whispers of cosmic hiss listen to this:  [but] do not sit and listen nor feel your clothing nor peer beyond thoughts as one by one one ceases to sense one finds one's mind luxuriously grand behind closed eyelids where everything bides awaiting one's call or recall great and small ideas will sidle to satiate the barren and needful unmoving unseen like timid vixen epiphanies lurk noiseless nearby be quiet be patient wish one to approach as one may quite soundless soul-weighted on softest of feet lightly becoming of a sudden there it is new truth! so well worth the wait where silence [yet not total sile