It’s so very quiet
Surf thunders close
Sounding distant,
A trick, as
Palm fronds rustle, and
Leafy friction reverberates
In the gentle, swollen breeze
Speak to me!
If you please
I beseech the council of trees
Teach me
What am I clinging to
What is love
Who am I today
I call out for
Guidance from above
My solitude is not
My failure
Even in my leisure
Even in self-love
I gasp at the signs
The wonders
I grieve
Hoping for reprieve
Yet faith-full
Again that
Miracles of alchemy
Dot the landscape
Of my destiny