Silent worlds unseen
Beyond imagination
Whisper at the door
Whose are the voices that call
Are they within or without…

On which side of the door do I stand? Am I in life or death, or does life to one only seem as death to another? Are birth and death no more than a single doorway through which I will  move to change perspective? And if the grass is always greener on the other side, why would we fear to sleep beneath it…

About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at scvincent.com and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: findme@scvincent.com.
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12 Responses to Whispers…

  1. Pingback: Whispers… – The Militant Negro™

  2. Reblogged this on Frank J. Tassone and commented:
    #Haiku Happenings #5: Sue Vincent’s latest #tanka-prose #haibun!


  3. Love your ponderings, Sue.


  4. Well, in Jerusalem, the grass was frequently greener depending on the number of sheep grazing there. The Bedouins moved the sheep (right through town) every few weeks giving the grass a chance to grow in between. I think the sheep know where the greener grass is, even if we don’t.


  5. paulandruss says:

    A haunting stream of images in your words Sue.


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