A Poem

Quiet, quiet. Still, still.

Hush away the buzzing whir of empty chatter,

rushing traffic, hour to hour radio.

The burble of the office building.

Leave me with computer hum, clicking keys,

and the promise of words (private words).

Let time fill me with unending space.

Show me the way to the next line.

Only God knows where this is leading.

Quiet, quiet. Still, still.

Without witness I am most alive.

This isn’t a blog about poetry, I know. You’ll have to forgive me for the side step. But poetry is something that sometimes happens to us writer types. It sneaks its way in between the cracks sometimes, and carves out a space that begs for attention. Poems are like that. Just like people.

Though these words came to me in a steady stream while driving through LA over six years ago, they seem especially true for Right Now and I felt compelled to share them with you.

Our world is moving so fast right now–what with iPhones, iPads, Twitter, blogs, media streams going! going! going! It’s incredible that none of that technology really existed when I wrote this poem. And yet…I stumbled across this poem the other day and thought it was a perfect way to celebrate the three year anniversary of my blog and where I am right now.

No matter how busy the world gets, it’s important to be still. Still within yourself. Because without that quiet, nothing good, clean, or true can come.

That is all.


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Food Woolf Written by:

Brooke Burton is an Los Angeles-based restaurant professional and hospitality expert. She is a freelance food writer, speaker, and co-author of The Food Blog Code of Ethics.


  1. November 12

    Such truth, my dear. We must always allow the poetry to step in after it has been waiting in the wings. Fluttering to be noticed. I really love this post.

    Thanks for the reminder.

    Happy, happy, happy blog anniversary!


  2. November 13

    Happy Blogiversary! And thanks for sharing the poem.

  3. November 14

    Just wanted to drop you a line to let you know that I really like your blog. The poem was the tipping point. We seldom remember to take a peak behind the scenes of life. what words represent and how to represent with words.
    Imagination is the stuff that nurtures the soul. Soup, not so much.

    • Food Woolf
      November 14

      Thank you so much! Great to hear from you. I’m so happy the poem was the tipping point in the right direction! You never know with that sort of thing. Hope the cooking life is going well for you! Will swing by your blog to see what you’re up to!

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