tranquil

"...the whispers of our God are all around"

Can you hear a blade of grass
Reach up in sleight of moment's pass?
Or the whisper of a single star
Cold alone and so, so far?
So fast and quiet leaves unfold,
Just as quickly they wither, get old.
Circular, cyclical, always aware
Good things created renounce despair.
Peaceful are the ways of these
Often disrupted by the trees
Catching, reflecting, windy gales,
Stands of filters, antonymic sails.
But even the wind needs a place
To break tranquility and show her face
It is God who exhales this gentleness =
The wind's ear to which grass shall confess.

Author's Note

This poem is an attempt to lure the reader into quieter, contemplative times where the voice of God surely will be heard.

Tell me if you are lured.