Silent Truth

Into the silence I go,

to hear the message

that travels through

the trees and leaves

its peaceful tone for

all hear, but few

listen actively to

what is said.

What words, what language,

can breach this promise?

Thus, speech retires,

dumb it becomes,

for no eloquent rhetoric

can export the secret

of the universe, 

save the sounds of

a hovering bee, 

a blossoming flower,

echoing eternity into

the unfolding moment,

nectar to feed

the inquisitive mind

as it enquiries, “Why?”

The answer arrives 

with the gift of time,

through the gentle rain

on a still pond, petals rest;

the fallen seed is blessed,

roots sew a garment,

weaving existence’s dress;

gaining water and sipping sun,

until it becomes and is.

Then autumn sheds the leaf,

time’s thief steals the bloom

until its season is next due.

The changes we see,

observe nature’s course,

explained by the elements

this eternal resource

speaks not of death but

becoming change, embracing

transformation into

different forms fill 

our mysterious universe.

And silently, diligently,

teaches within the silence,

through action and we become

the change, the silence, 

resonating the one,

true existence.


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