Category: Silence & Solitude

Reflections from the quiet perimeter—exploring solitude, the architecture of the mind, and the sanctuary found in unhurried spaces.

Silence & Solitude, The Natural World

The Mountain Pace

courtneybosworth

Living in the mountains, high and serene,

Is my quiet escape from the city’s harsh glare,

And the blinding white light where the ocean waves lean.

I seek the deep calm where the timber stands tall,

The cool of the shade where the shadow-lines fold,

Where the birds guard the canopy, watchful and small,

And the wild things move softly through mosses and cold.

It is quiet up here on the ridge of the earth;

The steepness demands that a traveler go slow.

No rushing, no metrics of status or worth—

The hills hold the floor, and we follow their flow.

I have fallen in love with the winding contour,

The small, scattered towns tucked in valleys below,

Where the mist settles low like an unwritten cure,

And the breeze takes the weight that the daylight bestowed.

The slowing of life in the mountain’s embrace

Clears the noise of the world from the mind’s open space;

Here, a man is allowed to establish his pace,

And look out at the earth with a peace on his face.

Silence & Solitude, Sovereign Preservation

The Quiet Ones

courtneybosworth

Legend tells us the strong wield sword and steel,

rescuing the damsel to sit atop the hill.

Society tells us the strong are full of might,

imposing their will to win the loudest fight.

But history tells us the quiet ones hold the strength.

They conquer every battle without help or aid.

They slay the demons of a heavy past,

vanquishing monsters you never knew.

They endure without boasting of hidden conquests,

without recognition or parade.

The only proof of our strength

is that we are sitting

right here.

Connection & Healing, Portraits & Human Connection, Silence & Solitude

Walking Among the Stones

courtneybosworth

We walk among the stones and read the verbs of the dead, forgetting that ‘lived’ was once a roaring, active thing.

To them, the century wasn’t a chapter in a textbook— it was a shadow lengthening across the floorboards, it was the current price of flour, the ache in the lower back, the absolute certainty of ‘now.’

They were just like us. They hurried through the rain.

They let the door slam, regretted the harsh word, and looked at the very same stars we see tonight, wondering who would stand here, centuries later, breathing the air they were finished with.

Lilith, who lived for one hundred years.  Edward, who lived for three days.  All brought something to this world.  All impacted someone’s life.

Now, the quiet of the land surrounding their resting place is the story of how today became and is what we call “history.”

Connection & Healing, Memory & Roots, Silence & Solitude, Sovereign Preservation

The Sentinel

courtneybosworth

It stood as a sentinel

Guarding the backyard.

It never demanded recognition

But always received admiration.

The rock, more like a boulder,

Stood at the corner of our house.

Offering refuge and comfort.

It did not judge,

it was not critical.

A safe haven

for all who sat and climbed on it.

It could accommodate all kids,

And cats, and even a dog.

And it did not complain.

Summers were spent

Lying on the rock

Beneath the limbs of its neighbor tree.

I would lie on the rock and daydream

In the sun with the cool breezes of a Michigan summer

Blowing over me.

King of the rock was a game would play.

The rock never demanded attention, or proclaim its existence.

It simply was.

A product of the world

Neither made or shaped by man.

Silent in its being

But providing comfort in its permanence

I could always depend on the rock being there.

A sanctuary of my childhood.

A fortress from the world.

Portraits & Human Connection, Silence & Solitude, Sovereign Preservation

The Empty Classroom

courtneybosworth

The hour drags; their gazes drift through space,

While earnest words are scattered in the air;

You speak of working worlds at hurried pace,

And urge the mind to see the value there.

The binders click, the restless bags are packed,

Two final thoughts provoke a weary sigh;

You yield the floor, release the crowded tract,

And watch the frantic bodies scatter by.

Now silence reigns beneath the fluorescent glare,

The sudden stillness settles, deep and gray;

No lingering voices haunt the quiet air,

While weary thoughts assess the vanished day.

You turn the key, leave campus ground behind,

To let the winding country calm the mind.