How often I realize that the deepest truth lies not in what is said, but what is not said.
The deepest love is often born in silence. The sweetest caring often done alone. The most heartfelt prayers heard only by a God who looks into a heart to find those things so sacred that they cannot pass into a world where they might be defiled.
It is so easy to speak. Things said in anger or fear, in frustration, or ignorance, are out in an instant, but their reverberations circle us for so much longer. Even those things said in love and excitement, joy and good intentioned babbling are only reflections of a moment.
It is in the silence that souls settle down and allow their innermost feelings to rise up, unfettered and free.
It is in the silence that I speak your name and listen for the echoes that are blessed only by the God of Rumi and Shams, the God who understands passion better demonstrated by twirling in that constant circle of silence than by anything that has a beginning and an ending.
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