Sometimes I feel alone in this world.
Voiceless.
Detached.
While the crowds around me chatter and mumble, I keep to my path.
I simply smile and follow the road to peace and quiet-
open that huge, loud door and step into a cloud of silence.
I like it there.
My ears rest.
My voice relaxes.
My mind breathes in soft, slow rhythm.
In my quiet world, I can hear bird songs-their musical language like a hypnotizing chant- the flutter of gray wings and the gentle tapping of their beaks on scattered seeds…
In my quiet world, I know the difference between the wind rustling in the maples and it whistling through the pine boughs.
I listen to the beat of the water upon the pond bank, the iridescent ripples kissing the cattails with steady strokes.
I can hear the honeysuckled breeze tickle the wind chimes,
the black crow cawing over the freshly turned pasture,
a distant dog barking for an overdue treat.
In my quiet world,
I am in tune with the moonlight,
the sunlight,
the splatter of rain drops on thirsty clover.
I hear my own heart,
my hidden melody,
my beckoning dreams.
Sometimes my quiet world is so deafening
that I am overwhelmed by its miracles.
And that is when my soul writes…
-finds an unobtrusive voice
and shouts without sound.
