23 April 2007

Poem 2

Wind, cool, calm
Scattering leaves in every direction.
Nature sings in early morning hour...
From the smallest insect to the crowing bird,
it sings its own litany.
Wanderer, sits silently, closing eyes,
experiencing the sounds of early morning hour.
Time passes slowly around.
The wanderer does not mind.
For even while time passes,
nature sill sings the early morning song.

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Sitting quietly, doing nothing, opening the self to the world and listening is the greatest experience of all. When you learn to listen, you begin to know and you begin to understand not only the world but yourself as well.

2 comments:

runnerfrog said...

In addition the wanderer there has a trained ear, apparently, to walk through the penumbrae of the soul and come out to light again, wiser.

Amber said...

*Hugs* Thank you for the comment and all the comments you've made. I don't know what it is.. Changing of the season perhaps but writing is coming back to me again. Maybe it's the stress leaving my body as the semester winds down and the creative part of me takes over again. A mystery, indeed.