Whisper

A blank page in my mind

For the spirit to whisper words upon it.

The wind pulls

Through the trees

A lawnmower hums

A dull moan

For birdsong to accent.

My breath, too, does it sing with the wind?

Am I not too a part of this natural enfold?

Quiet, spirit says

So you may hear the many voices

Languages of another kind are whispering

Quiet, spirit says.

So simple,

So far from human grasp at times.

And at last, once more

The world is luminous

Quiet, on my way home.