Pablo Neruda
Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.
For once on the face of the earth, let’s not speak in any language, let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment without rush, without engines;
we would all be together in a sudden strangeness.
If we were not so single-minded about keeping our lives moving, and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves
with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead in winter
and later proves to be alive.
Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.
This poem is copyrighted by the poet and is included in the Healing Circles Global poetry wiki because it provides insight, nourishment, and inspiration to the hosts and participants of healing circles. We request that hosts and participants honor the poet’s copyright by not printing or sharing it in any other way. In fact, please support the poet’s work by purchasing the book in which this poem was originally published: Extravagaria, by Pablo Neruda (1974).
