As the waves curl
And the wind sings
I see the sun sparkle in the distance
And though the hard ground
Is not there
And the waters rise
And fall
And though others
Are distant
And the trees
One color on the painted land
I am safe
Here
As the waves curl
And the wind sings
I see the sun sparkle in the distance
And though the hard ground
Is not there
And the waters rise
And fall
And though others
Are distant
And the trees
One color on the painted land
I am safe
Here
This burned ground
Hides life beneath it
Even as it speaks
Of death
There was a quiet
Once
A place free of metal crashing
Of voices in their fell cacophony
A place of calm
I remember the grasses bending
And the trees swaying
And the bees humming
I remember the way the air smelled
Its sweetness
Its earthiness
I remember the warm sun on my skin
A pleasant heat on my eyes
That took away so much I did not need
There was a quiet
Once
I wish to find it
Guide me?
The sun sears
And yet does not burn away
The shadows
I find myself wishing
For simplicity
And wishing
For all the minutia
The little rules that don’t matter
The bounds we have chosen to place
For no reason other than
The comfort of rulers
To go away
And leave me
In peace
That I might walk the paths trodden
And untrodden
That I might hear the stories known
And unknown
That I might learn the truths spoken
And unspoken
That I might see the sights seen
And unseen
This is my wish
Let me sit in the quiet
Without a question or demand
From the world outside
Without the leading and needling
Toward things I do not need
For I need no more
Than what I already have
Whither must I wander
To find answers
That fate has not yet
Availed me?
As I sit surrounded
Amidst wood planks
Crackled pages
Chipping paint
Tall trees
I wonder what stories they have seen
What lives they have witnessed
All before my time
Quiet do the leaves fall
Soft comes the snow
Breathless does the grey come
And hide away the sun
And though the winter’s quiet
Is deafening
It is not nearly so much
As the resounding orchestra
Of spring