The Sound of a Resting Place (Sonnet)

Cooing birds and rustling leaves, the sound of
a resting place. Be still and hear the voice
of nature calling. Light from sun above
shines on my face; a leaf floats, grateful choice
to soak in the scent of fall, the patois
of the universe, connection between.
The silence leads you to wonder and awe,
the space of messages felt but unseen.
Clear the clutter, listen to the whispers
on the breeze, they call to you, me, here we
find our home, entangled are the whimpers
of the world with our souls, but can you see
the seasons changing, moonrise in darkness,
life in decay, transformation from rest?

© Christine Salkin Davis, 2019




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