What is that constancy
and what is silence?
What is the foreground,
but where is the background?
What makes that flurry
and who makes the buzzing?
What is it to be suspended in the ignorance of a creature?
To hear (do they hear?)
but never to comprehend?
and what is color?
What if it had sound?
Would I be a green or an orange?
or something entirely unique...
Why do we wonder?
Who does the moon greet when he rises early?
(I want it to be me)
Why do we wish?
and is there ever complete silence?
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Methinks you are an orange.
ReplyDeleteAnd methinks the moon did greet you and that you waxed lovely with words while you were being still and knowing that He is God. He is not silent; and you were listening. That is beautiful and so is your poem and so are you.
yay, this is my favorite comment, mum :)
ReplyDeletei love that you gave me your poet DNA!
my sweet poetess. "why do we wonder" - good stuff.
ReplyDeletetar much, daddy :)
ReplyDeleteactually, you and mum got the poetical DNA from me! dats why I don't have any. ;)
ReplyDeleteohh that's what happened??? gotchhhaaaaaa
ReplyDelete