Somewhere Past The Fallen Limbs

Written by: Brenda Atry

Somewhere past the fallen limbs
Of old tangled oaks and elm
Breaking silence as lighting dims
Rushing whispers split the realm

Mocking silence with a hush 
It slicks the stones of shallow brook,
Exalting in babble with a gush,
I turn to take a humble look.

Searching fluid sounds of creation
Articulating His wordless voice, 
Tears fall dryly at my sublimation
To waters endless song , rejoice.

Brenda Atry
September 28, 2011