WhisperMelissa KnowlesOct 2, 20241 min readUpdated: Oct 5, 2024A blank page in my mindFor the spirit to whisper words upon it.The wind pulls Through the treesA 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 saysSo you may hear the many voicesLanguages of another kind are whisperingQuiet, spirit says.So simple, So far from human grasp at times.And at last, once moreThe world is luminousQuiet, on my way home.
A blank page in my mindFor the spirit to whisper words upon it.The wind pulls Through the treesA 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 saysSo you may hear the many voicesLanguages of another kind are whisperingQuiet, spirit says.So simple, So far from human grasp at times.And at last, once moreThe world is luminousQuiet, on my way home.
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