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Hush, listen.
Jutting out of black earth,
solemn skin laced with age, reaching for life bled dry long
ago. Roots burrowed down, searching deep, feeding faded memories.
Songs bitter with glorious afterthoughts, turning around sun's
light. "Wisdom" he whispered.
Hush, listen.
Hawks soar high, shadowed
wings drifting over bumpy mounds, screaming mating cries.
Dance of worship, streaming upon breezes blown swiftly past.
"Love", they chant.
Hush, listen.
Water gently bubbles past
stoic speckled rock sleeping under emerald moss. Foam timidly
washes burdens of heavy life, clinging on weary souls. Soft
sighs rumble, speaking secrets of unknown dreams. "Peace"
she dreams.
Hush, listen.
©1998, Christie
Benson
Writings
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