The Well of Silence

Sometimes I want very much to descend

down the well of solitude

to splash soundlessly into the cool, dark waters of silence

to bathe myself in it, as one treading water at the bottom of a well

in the stone-damp, inviting dark

and wash the sweat and grit and sunburn from my soul

cleanse myself, far below the tiny dot of light at the mouth of the well

float there, serene, alone, undisturbed

until my anxieties, my doubts, my neverending second guesses,

dissolve and sink away,

down there,

in the well of silence,

where no one can find me or reach me.

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