spring2015

Steve WestContemplating Wendell Berry, Rilke, and Zen on the Banks of theRiver“make a place to sit down.Sit down. Be quiet.. . .Of the little words that comeOut of the silence. . .Make a poem that does not disturbThe silence from which it came.”Wendell BerryWhen a semester is finally finished,I always sit quietly for two weeks or so.I’ve wasted too many words, more than my share.So I will sitAnd listen.To wind, rain, time.And dread the day I mustBreak this vow, returnTo a classroom where I fearI profane a million words.. . .who keeps innerlysilent the roots of speech.RilkeAsk me about silenceAs it should be,With only the song of birds,Hum of bee, wind through leaves.No chug of car or tractor, noSlamming of doors, noQuerulous voice of humansOr obscene rasp of cell phoneBreak the silence.A mockingbird nearbyInsists on quiet.81