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The Hoofs of Pegasus

Chapter 10: SILENCE
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About This Book

A collection of short lyrical poems that weave mythic and religious imagery with intimate observations of nature and interior feeling. Many pieces draw on classical figures and Renaissance art, while others reflect domestic scenes, sleep, music, and sacrament; recurrent motifs include night and light, birds, water, and ritual. Voice shifts between contemplative reverie and pastoral detail, exploring longing, faith, and creative impulse. The sequence moves through imagistic vignettes—moonlit meadows, bathing maidens, sacramental harvests, and dreams—linking private emotion to larger spiritual and mythical resonances.

SILENCE

WE are still; There are no words. Across the sky A wedge of birds Flies northward. Brown and thinned, A brittle leaf rasps in the wind. The sun creeps on from tree to tree.
We are still. Were a word spoken, Like a troubled pool Is silence broken. Better far be dumb. There are depths no stone could plumb; Circles widen endlessly.