When the mist rolls in, the seabird falls silent.
When the whispers cease, the silence speaks instead.
When a cloud hides the star, it still shines silently.
I’ve heard it said that silence is the true fabric of
reality. My recent forays beyond the physical face of nature would appear to
vindicate the view. I still have questions, though, and life doesn't reveal her secrets readily.
2 comments:
Such lovely poetic thoughts, yours ... hope you're well, Jeff.
You're a veritable bad penny, Shayna Prentice! And a proper poet. And an artist.
Lovely to hear from you.
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