the bright, the bold, the striking, the sublime–
such things are forged and finished
not amidst the heady rush of crowds, but
in the quiet.
who has that kind of spaciousness?
how much of the best work
of the poet, the painter, the preacher is lost
to the energy it takes
to make space in the quiet
and guard it, often fiercely, from
the eager, well-intended world?
poem (c) 2017 D. Ohlandt
please only reprint in entirety and with credit given
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