Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
Heavy clouds open their veil,
A thundering of droplets
Beat the ground,
And the dirt beneath the grass drinks eagerly
Wind sails past,
uninhibited by the wetness,
No, it conducts the rain;
A symphony,
Welcome in this April month,
With sounds that will calm,
Slow,
And lull
Busy living beings
To rest.
All is quiet,
But for the murmured talk of individuals
In room corners,
All is quiet but for the in and out,
Draw of breath from the silent,
All is quiet but the sound of minds in thought,
A shift of body makes a shuffle of cloth,
And all is quiet but for the noise,
The noise that seems to get louder the more one listens to the quiet.
She of Letters 