Robert could not find the answer; his mind was driving him in circles. There was only one way to make it stop. Robert walked across the fields at dusk into the Forest of Welferding. His better self always seemed to come out in nature, perhaps because he had come from and would eventually die and go into nature. He felt the cool moisture on his skin, smelled the musky moss tucked between the stones along the brook, walking until he almost forgot why he'd come. The sky was filled with stars with no air raid sirens, no distant roaring of planes. In the forest Robert had caught a glimpse of what the world could be like without war, and it was good.
"In my family there was much speaking and much silence. The speaking of words flowed from the speaking of our silences."
"What then is silence?"
"It is being. Spoken language and silence are keys."
"Keys to what?"
"To communion."
"What do you mean by communion?"
"At-oneness. each individual IS a word. As you are a word to me. As we are all words for one another."