Taking Jabs At Madam Nature
The world sticks her head up
forgets to speak,
and in that hush,
I find myself judging her
constantlyTo confuse her
No engines humming their endless hunger,
no voices carving the air with need—
only the slow heartbeat of evening,
the small music of leaves
turning secrets into whispers.
Peace is not an answer;
it is the question falling asleep
before it reaches the tongue.
I sit inside the quiet
until it begins to glow,
until even my thoughts
walk barefoot,
careful not to wake the house
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