Words at Dusk

by | May 7, 2013 | Poetry | 3 comments

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–
a slanted receptacle for sound
forcing it upwards 
to my ears.
I’m hidden–He’s not.
I hear Him.
He’s here.

3 Comments

  1. This is soothing… your words, the leaves, the ending.

    Reply
  2. yes. Yes!!He Is Who He Is, always, no matter who or where we are!

    Reply
  3. i often find the almighty in nature…yes i can hear…

    Reply

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