Your song calms me
Little bird
Hot sticky breath
Leaves these lungs
As I exhale pain in whispers
--These secrets with the trees
Faint traces of rain
Bleed from bare dark
And falls atop old leaves
That have seen better days.

This is where I come for
A release from the Loud.
Distractions wind me so tight
It’s no wonder
I can’t understand
Silence.
Simplicity.

But these coiling limbs of dark
Continue to reach for the sky
Enduring the harsh and cold
Loneliness.
Their change is small
But is enough to still
My wounded soul.

Change need not be great to
Live well.
In fact, stretched before me
Is a thick blanket of lush greens,
Blades waiting for their time
To fade into winter.
The black.

It’s December now and
I’ve found the only green that remains
Ringing a bell to beckon Hope.
And on this day
Even amidst the haze and noise below
It is actually being heard.
Loud and clear—such is the way of silence.