Here is calm, yet not peace.
We gape at heavy clouds dimming our bright world:
those solemn, silent gods have freed us from Sol.
Nature stirs the forest with unseen hands,
the wood and wind contesting for Her pleasure.
Feathers sing battle lore.
How each note echoes!--then dense, rushing quiet
hangs from solid air. Earth herself has paused; we
taste the silence like wine.
may '07 - june '09
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