quiet days...



yesterday afternoon, my husband and i went outside and sat on our back porch. not an event, usually. except, this time, it was. we chatted, like we always do, while sipping on red wine. we exchanged stories: beginnings. and middles. and ends.

we talked. we talked. with eloquence. but then. as if by design. as if by agreement. a silence fell. a quiet. a calm. and in the entire universe, there was nothing but the two of us. sitting beside one another in the gently droning stillness. he. and she. you. and i. in wordless communion.

sometimes, eloquence is silence.



another mindful serendipity...

dawn cascades from the sky and
reaches through the window
washing my fingers with
liquid tourmaline



walking through the maze-like womb of my neighborhood,
the air tasting of autumn and smelling of tranquility,
i am struck by an impulsive thought:

i wish i could ring random doorbells and,
when people open their doors, say,
hi, i'm nevine.
may i come in for tea and conversation?
without them thinking me insane.

but i challenge that intrusion and keep walking.

and the thought vanishes
as all thoughts do
and are replaced by 
new thoughts
new challenges
new vanishings

vanish... such a delicious word!
like a breath... now here... now gone.