A small oasis of Silence
I sit and stare
Into the where
Of within me
At the world of words and sounds and sights,
Peoples and places and empty spaces,
And under it all
A small oasis of Silence
Where time ceases to be
And I am part of eternity.
Corbett sat there, looking up at me. His tears had dried and his quiet smile said everything words could not. Words? We had come for his gift of words. There was so much we wanted to hear, so much he could tell us. But words were something irrelevant now. A deeper communication was taking place. He had given us the blessing of his presence, and no greater gift can be imagined.