A street bench, strangers sharing communion
The last few days had been full of words and activity today I needed to hear silence, the earth breathing.
I had some things to write up from the conference so I missed ‘the hour of silence’ at the local meeting house.
I did go later as a friend was speaking on their life and faith. After it was finished I wasn’t ready to go home. I needed to walk off the stimulation of the last few days.
I was walking along the high street stopping occasionally to lift a bundle of leaves, rustle them in my hands and throw them into the air. I then heard the voice of a young woman busking in the street. She was as a bird singing in the tree. I stopped and listened. When I hear beyond the words I feel a movement in my heart, something is touched.
I did get up from where I was sat though sat down again at the next bench. The heart was saying sit here for an hour and listen to the street.
I am of the street. The street is free for us all. You don’t have to enter it you are already in it. The street welcomes all it recognises no status.
In the hour that I sat, I saw a pigeon dance to impress another. I was joined on the bench by a couple and then by a couple of friends. In the silence, I could hear their conversation though it was not for me to comment.