Wednesday, July 29, 2009


I am an
urban human.

I am moving out.
I don't know how I will manage the transition.

What follows is possibly my favourite text on the urban context.
I am disturbed that the divine is confined to
silence
babbling brooks
windswept mountains
twittering birds
and did I mention 'silence'?



Noise
They say you’re available
on certain conditions.
Quiet ones.
That if I can find an air of tranquility
it carries that still small voice.

But I don’t do quiet,
stillness.
I am not tranquil except when I am asleep
and then I am not available
as far as I know.

So,
what's the chance of a still big voice
in the noise,
of hearing you in the roaring traffic,
the screaming meal-time,
the crowded train,
the supermarket queue,
the smoky, throbbing bar?

I know that time you weren’t
in the fire,
the storm.
But everyone’s different.
Maybe Elijah was better at quiet.

You’re usually quiet.
I’m usually wired.
If I try for your silence.
perhaps you could try for my noise.

Your place or mine?
I know they say you’re in
the country,
but maybe we could meet in town….......... "


by Martin Wroe