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The House Was Quiet and the World Was Calm
The house was quiet and the world was calm.
The reader became the book; and summer night
Was like the conscious being of the book.
The house was quiet and the world was calm.
The words were spoken as if there was no book,
Except that the reader leaned above the page,
Wanted to lean, wanted much most to be
The scholar to whom the book is true, to whom
The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
The house was quiet because it had to be.
The quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind:
The access of perfection to the page.
And the world was calm. The truth in a calm world,
In which there is no other meaning, itself
Is calm, itself is summer and night, itself
Is the reader leaning late and reading there.
11
Night is the best part of any day. The world “has to be” calm at some point, allowing for a break from an abundance of noise and hurry. I enjoy nighttime, when even the sun has to chill out for a bit. When it becomes dark outside, the small children are asleep and the loud noises cease. Solitude arrives, bringing along a “perfection of thought” that can only be found in silence. Even pestering troubles go to rest at night. Night is a time of great movies and books, warm blankets and tea, and relaxing thoughts and work.
By: Wallace Stephens