Scattered at peace
On an endless breeze
Drift into life
The heartbeat still of every seed
Between the cracks of lush meadows
Where
Hard, dirty little rocks
And stones abound.
Now is the time
to remove the warm sleeping thorns
The wakening worried weeds.
Listen
Softly rises passion
Where
No weeds grow
No lies abound
No birds to steal
Amongst my dreams
I hear the silence
Of roots being grounded
And nourished within the soil.
--------------------------Written for Poetry Jam - The Sound of Silence
