My Muse

I craved silence.  I recently wrote this poem while sitting on my back porch in silence, well as much as living in a suburban city can afford.  I usually play some light piano music in the background and read.  This day I chose to just sit, with nothing particular to accomplish other than to soak in the environment around me.

Silence

Sometimes you just need a morning

or a day.

Do you ever just sit…

in silence?  No tv, no music, no mechanical sound

drumming in the air even just for noise?

Wind chimes are the only factitious noise.

drifting across the senses

even they only break because

God wills the wind to blow

comforting and soothing

like angel’s breath.

My Back Porchsilence, back porch

The usual sounds I catch are the rather loud crashing from the waterfall of my neighbor’s pool onto the otherwise placid surface, the incessant barking of multiple dogs that spend their days trapped within wooden barricades, and the bird’s tweets and trills, a symphony, belting out praises.  This particular morning was unusually quiet. Not a sound.  I merely felt the unwavering, gentle breeze that kissed me on the cheek as it wafted by on its way to say hello to anyone else who might be listening.  It caressed the tendrils of my hair like a mother fondling the curls of a sleeping baby; marveling in wonder at perfection. The wind silent, if not for the tinkling bell sounds giving proof that it speaks even when it’s but a whisper.  Sometimes we need a morning, or day, like this to recharge.