I am a forest of silence, full of thoughts I donβt speak aloud, of feelings left to grow as wild as the unbidden trees; few people wander hereβ they hear the quiet but not everything living beneath it; the roots that hold me together, the small things still trying to bloom; I used to think silence meant emptiness, but now, I know it can also mean survival, a place to heal slowly, away from the noise of the world; and even on my most subdued days, something in me keeps growing, reaching towards the light.
Your words remind us that silence isn't a void to be filled, but a sacred boundary where the most vital parts of us can finally grow without having to explain themselves to the world. Always love your words Jo β¨
survival, yes. also peace. youβve made the ingredients to a healing remedy here. 1 part roots, 1 part light, 2 parts bloom. mixed together in silence. // just lovely.
βThey hear the quiet / but not everything living beneath it.β
Such a powerful articulation of how often stillness is misread. Silence can be dense with survival.
Thank you very much for reading!
I love silence, I can hear myself.
Same!
There are so many reasons for silence, some valid, others not.
My voice is returning, and I hope you are ready when you are for yours.
Me too.
Ahh peaceful and beautiful π§‘
Absolutely beautiful π
Your words speak to the soul β₯οΈ
The peace in silence,
something we ignore-yet it returns as betrayal.
Not softly. It governs.
It turns into control,
into a distant, sharp pride
that keeps reducing peace to ash.
Your words remind us that silence isn't a void to be filled, but a sacred boundary where the most vital parts of us can finally grow without having to explain themselves to the world. Always love your words Jo β¨
So beautiful. A place to heal slowly. π€
survival, yes. also peace. youβve made the ingredients to a healing remedy here. 1 part roots, 1 part light, 2 parts bloom. mixed together in silence. // just lovely.