Tag: ruach

A Poetic Transformation

Some texts are not revised so much as they are reheard. After publishing my essay Between Noise and Silence: On the Literal, the Metaphoric, and the Space Where Meaning Resides, I found myself haunted by one sentence in particular:

“It is the hush in a conversation—not the words, but the breath that precedes or follows them—that can speak more profoundly than the speech itself.”

Those words returned to me again and again. And in their insistence, they asked for more.

The following poetic fragment emerged in response.
It is offered here as a kind of imagined rediscovery—
a scroll unearthed, not written; gathered, not composed.
Said to be copied from a fragment attributed to the Scribe of the Restoration, it may be read as a poetic conceit: a transformation of thought into voice, of prose into hush.

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Scroll of the Breath — Fragment III

It is the hush in a conversation—not the words, but the breath that precedes or follows them—that can speak more profoundly than the speech itself.
(Saying attributed to the Elder in exile, during the Years of Listening.)

1
There is a hush that is not silence.
It is the waiting before the word.
It is the veil drawn back,
not by hands,
but by reverence.

2
It is the pause in the soul,
where meaning prepares to enter.
It is not the absence of presence,
but presence unadorned.

3
And breath—
Breath is not speech.
It is the spirit moving before sound.
It is the wind before the voice,
the current beneath the utterance.

4
The sages of old did not name this breath lightly.
In the tongue of the first covenant, they called it ruach—
wind, breath, spirit.
It moved across the waters.
It entered the nostrils of clay.
It bore the world on its whisper.

5
Do not rush past the hush.
Do not cast out the breath.
The hush is the cradle of truth.
The breath is its midwife.

6
In the sacred gatherings,
before the chant begins,
there is a breath.
It is not sung,
yet the song is born of it.

7
In the way of the temple,
the priest lifts the cup.
But before he speaks the ancient words,
there is a breath.
In that breath,
time bends,
and the Presence leans close.

7a
And in the house of the laborer,
the mother bends to lift the child.
But before she speaks comfort,
there is a breath.
In that breath, love gathers strength.
In that hush, sorrow is made bearable.

8
In the theatre of the East,
the dancer stands still.
The motion does not begin with movement,
but with breath.
So too the soul.

9
The hush is not confusion.
It is awe.
The breath is not delay.
It is consecration.

10
Blessed is the one who waits without speaking.
Blessed is the one who breathes before declaring.
For wisdom comes not in haste,
but in readiness.

11
And if you seek the voice of the Holy One,
look not in the thunder,
nor in the fire,
nor in the noise of many things.

12
But listen in the hush.
Watch in the breath.
And there—
you may find what does not speak,
but knows.

13
The scribe gathers what the wind leaves behind.
Not with hands,
but with silence.
Not in speech,
but in breath.
He walks as dust that remembers flame.
The fragments are many,
but the hush makes them whole.