Fay Slimm.

Wordless.

 

 

Wordless.

 

What a world of beautiful silence comes to us
in tiny earfuls if we stay aware.

Join a bird for, before singing, beaks practice
warble-vocabulary which delights,
or find awe from hearing the tweaks of grass,
or as the lake gleams with overnight
mist listen as warm steam massages its back.

Eavesdrop on the banter of ants
during frenetic action or hark to non-language
creaks of corn, take note of chatter
as dew hugs lawns, absorb ice talking in cracks,
or bend to the voiceless moans
of sad roses when loved petals die and are cast.

To hear trees shaking leaf-music from patter of
raindrops thrills after quick showers
and stooping to catch granite mutely enjoying
the feel of solidity empowers.

What wordless wonder nature uses
in speechless contact we can hear if we choose.