Sepia Silence

I tried to write a blog but all I found was rain and silence. I drew the silence unto myself, snuggling in for a mind-numbing cuddle. Silence initially manifests in black and white, like an old photo whispering sepia secrets, slowly mingling with my mind and stirring up color—stringing dreams across my soul like a gypsy clothesline.

When I close my eyes I can see eternity, the lofty things with no boundaries or limitations—my playground, my meditation hall, my burial ground. It’s such an unassuming place; who’d a thought that eternity resided on the other side of my eyelids.

I glide with the silence like a bird circling above in wide solo spirals, a hunger driven waltz on the day’s warm breath, posing on the tips of boney branches, puncturing the heavens, and pointing the way.

I wonder if silence is the same for everyone?

I fidget on my red futon, a Claymation character chained to the earth by my ankles with no place to go but down—six more feet perhaps, until I get my wings.

It’s still raining.

The clouds are always brooding over something.

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Leah Griffith - Eating Life Raw

My name is Leah Griffith, I was raised in the northeast, and then migrated to Hawaii, St. Croix, North Carolina, and now sunny Florida. Enjoy observing life, and laughing at it, particularly when it catches me off guard. I've completed my first novel and am currentlly seeking representation. I love writing, and reading, but mostly I love life.

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