Genuine silence may proclaim that truth is not in the last analysis an idea or a proposition but a reality greater than any argument or matter of speech.
It was said that Abba Agathon lived for three years carrying a stone in his mouth until he had learned to keep silence.
Listen to the silence, for the silence is alive. It speaks through the darkness with a whisper.
The winter is cold, is cold.
All's spent in keeping warm.
Has joy been frozen, too?
I blow upon my hands
Stiff from the biting wind.
My heart beats slow, beats slow.
What has become of joy?
If joy's gone from my heart
Then it is closed to You
Who made it, gave it life...
Help me forget the cold
That grips the grasping world.
Let me stretch out my hands
To purifying fire,
Clutching fingers uncurled.
Look! Here is melting joy.
My heart beats once again.
