the lights have left the leaves,
golden brilliance
turned out like a
glowing candle
quieted by the wind.
the leaves float and rustle
voices, too, carried by the breeze
to this place atop a hill–
the slant a receptacle for sound
forcing it upwards
to my ears.
I’m hidden–
He’s not.
I hear Him.
Laurie Kolp says
atThis is soothing… your words, the leaves, the ending.
HisFireFly says
atyes. Yes!!He Is Who He Is, always, no matter who or where we are!
Brian Miller says
ati often find the almighty in nature…yes i can hear…