I have often found
In the absence of sound
There is a rumble in the ground
Beneath my feet

If one can but hear
By turning your ear
Away from the noisome drear
Peace waits

Something of fire within me
Yearns to burn through
The years of crumpled papers
Of broken timbers
Of half-built staircases
That make me up

And then let rise
From the ashes
Something unshaped
By flammable things