there is a place i know,
where back in a hollow,
the crisp cool water runs over the boulders of ages past,
the evidence of a time no one remembers,
but everyone can see.
it's quiet there,
the birdsongs echo in the early mornings,
and the constant babbling of the water
soothes the spirit of those who come to walk.
i go there from time to time,
to sit in the quiet and think
and dream and pray,
for in the silence,
the answers come to those who are willing to listen
to the language of the water and the birds.