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Photo by Bob Gentry ©2001 Stanyan Entertainment

A Thought for Today

Energy is everything. Without it, talent hasn't got a prayer.


Ivy geranium has spread across the front end of the yard, strangling the dandelion and the rose alike. Flowering now in pink and white and almost red, it hides its tentacles. Still, you know that inch by inch underground and just above it, it slowly moves to capture this whole block. I doubt the hedge will offer much resistance. The ivy is an idea that has found its time April into June. Three months should be enough to see it do its final battle. One last all-out offensive and every foot of ground will be geranium, made so in silence – no evidence of proper plan.

So much is done in silence. So much accomplished without word. I read silence like a bible, attend it like a reference work. Having tasted it with the well-loved, making love, and the would be lover after loving didn’t work.

Silence is the science of the times that stay. And yet we use whole paragraphs to say what nothing could have spoken better.

Entry I: Silence, from “Come to me in Silence,” 1973

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Rod McKuen Concerts & Appearances

notable birthdays Eve Arden o Corinne Calvet o Jill Clayburgh o Gary Collins o Jacques Louis David o Faith Anunciacion Studtmann Dehmer (RoPhred) o Kirsten Dunst o Mini Farina o Carl XVI Gustav, King of Sweden o Perry King o Cloris Leachman o Franz Lehar o H. M. Queen Juliana o Willie Nelson o Robert Shaw o Isiah Thomas o Jeff Timmons o Alice B. Toklas o Burt Young o Bobby Vee
Rod's random thoughts Women young or old need liberation from men’s conception of them.

Every voyage yields something, even if it only takes you down the block.

Let none that come to know you say, you didn't try.


Come to me in silence 
out of the noise of noon. 
Be the eye inside of me. 
Help me drink the river up 
            and swallow it, 
or let me take great mouthfuls 
                     out of you, 
stampeding you to bed 
and then beyond, 

I do not expect 
that we will meet again 
in the same way as before, 
you freckled by the summer morning 
           smiling like a china cup over blue-white 
Me blue-jeaned and apple-cheeked 
a frown away from being glad. 
Accept the fact that we will grow 
perhaps in different ways. 

Come to me in solitude 
pushing through the crowd 
there are no others here 
to pry or make demands. 
If no one waits for you 
                         but me, 
I wait in that same solitude 
that brings you here. 

Come to me in silence 
like the land-bound stone 
pushed and shoved 
      and finally sailed 
against the gray indifferent shore. 

Prophecies I have 
and I am not indifferent 
only gray, 
full of dark midwinter questions 
some that no one could know or guess. 

- from “Come To Me In Silence," 1973

© 1969, 1973, 1983, 2001 by Stanyan Music Group & Rod McKuen. All Rights Reserved
Birthday research by Wade Alexander o Poetry from the collection of Jay Hagan o Coordinated by Melinda Smith
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