Looking for a Quiet Place


THE QUIET PLACE - PART ONE Logically, my quiet place could be anywhere, any room in my house because I'm alone here except for my dog that is no longer a big talker.  Yet I choose another place, a specific time, a particular situation for I would rather be outside the influence of Walmart (my curtains), away from the grocery store (my generous stack of pork and beans), away from thoughts of any food, to a place that does not bear my fingerprint or commercial influence.

It could be at close of day when the masks of smiles fall,  and where the sun stumbles along the hunched spine of a broken ridge, drops into the very plane of existence, where the ground smells of America, a free land, farm ground.  Or it could be along a dark path where weeds have stolen the way toward the river that is luminous with illusions.  Add a branch or two of lightning, even a mosquito. (They usually test, then leave me. I'm certainly not of everybody's taste.)

Since daytime tends to blunt or numb me (that nit-picking thing called work and responsibility), my quiet place might best be full-on night, my favorite time actually, for it is then that my mind jumps, and I want to know it all, feel it all, to figure out the symbols of my existence (a vanity license plate of sorts). I want to miss the ones I have loved and lost, and appreciate the loved ones I still have, and burn with the anguish of loss, the joy of having, not once thinking to run for a bucket of water to extinguish any flame of feeling . If I am the most-thinking, the most-caring, therefore, the most-happy, alone or with others in deep night, and because "quiet" is not reserved to absence of sound, it stands to reason, this is my ultimate quiet place.

Won't you tell me....what is yours?