An Entrance To Our Words
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We whisper softly
a nothingness
of sound,
bubbles of hope
in which we live;
giving ourselves
away each day
to punctuated ears.
Surprised,
leaning forward
to empty futures,
waiting for signals
to mark our time.
They are right
about the silence
of the osprey
and the fish.
But in the morning,
after twilight and
the mistress of the stars
delight in stolen kisses
from another life,
we hear small
and distant greetings,
tall grasses waving
in applause
as thud of hoof
and wings of silence
riding drafts above,
release;
then emboldened rooster,
cloistered safe,
with tongue un-cocked,
finds his way
to start another day
and make for us
an entrance to our words.
Copyright © Vernon Witmer | Year Posted 2021
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