What I Hear When I Dare To Stop - Quiet Places
What I hear when I Dare to Stop.
The Quiet Places,
Here in this room I hear the
Echoes of when my daughter slept,
Her cat’s purr when she curled on her hip,
So many years, I’ve forgot.
The fan whirring upon my beaten son,
Recuperating from life’s tough blows,
And now happily nesting on his own,
God is good to him, he knows.
And now little Annie softly breaths,
Or gasps a bit in a dream,
There is a bit of a clack from my fingers,
As my mind searches fodder for this theme.
Each quiet place has its history,
A kitchen table, a lakeside, or den.
Even so machines make a symphony,
A backdrop to letting thoughts in.
So I accept the near silence as normal,
So seldom can you be without
Roars of A/C, city cars and mowers,
Both within my soul and without.
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