(The silence of) Sylvia’s Pines
It was a cool clear djeran day
We climbed into Sylvia’s car and headed into the country
There was a hidden forest she wanted to show me
A private place, special to her
An hour’s drive from town, it sat just at that point where
The city passes into the country
One of those lines you cross without knowing
A subtle change of key
We pulled off the road, scrambled from the car
And headed into the wood
At once a deep calm settled upon us
A glowing peace that was both in us and in the world
Even Sylvia’s excitable dog felt it
She ran ahead but didn’t bark
The further we went into the forest, the stronger the feeling became
We didn’t talk, merely basked in the deep serenity
Rich and mystical – numinous, if you will
Soft sunlight filtered through the trees cast long shadows
Marking a kind of pathway, a grid of inter-cutting arcades
While the pine-needles, cushioning the earth, softened our footfall
The stillness gathered round us
Was somehow spiritual
Like a cathedral
A cathedral en plein air
The silence of Sylvia’s pines
The silence of Sylvia’s pines
© Ian Lilburne 2018
MUSIC: Dayton Ohio 1981
POEM: Perth 2018