When ‘quiet’ happens in a life, I think,
Wonderful things show up.
It almost seems as if a room has suddenly materialized in life;
A room where ideas have a place of their own, so they can move around and exercise.
Things that need to be thought about.
Or wondered about,
Or contemplated,
Or imagined.
All those things, and more, can only occur in that magical room;
The space where ‘quiet’ happens.

When ‘quiet’ happens in a life, I think,
It almost seems as if normal distractions have decided to pack their bags and leave town for awhile;
The disquieting moments that can make so much noise in the midst of an unsuspecting day,
Dissipate or dissolve or disintegrate into thin air because ‘quiet’ decided to show up.

Where does it come from, I wonder?
And why can’t we bottle it, when it arrives?
How great would it be if a body could save up ‘quiet,’ like we save up frequent flyer miles?
Why is it that ‘quiet’ in a life is such a great space to visit, yet we don’t get to live there?

Quiet isn’t some ‘thing’ I can go to the store and buy.
Nor is it an announcement or pronouncement.
I can say, “Quiet!” to myself as much as I want, but it still won’t make ‘quiet’ happen in my life.

I can’t know what my chances are for ‘quiet’ to happen tomorrow, either;
I’ve noticed that I can’t know about ‘quiet’ in my life, like I know there’s a 40% chance of rain this week.
There’s no place to look it up;
There’s no place to check it out.
When ‘quiet’ happens in a life, it almost seems like it sneaks up on a soul.

You can hardly hear it coming, most of the time in life;
It walks on tiptoes.
It doesn’t make a sound.
Then again, I don’t suppose it should make a sound.
It’s not suppose to make a noise.

Perhaps, that’s the nicest thing about ‘quiet’ happening in a life …

It’s quiet.