in silence brimmed with softness
and distant thunder strikes
between the cold and empty,
behind the curtained light

where birds fly ever higher
and water always flows,
in solace and in synchrony-
the soil where souls grow

reserved for those who notice-
a long since forgotten art
planted in the in-between,
where life remains unheard  

and here within these moments,
to those who choose to see;
are messages of plenty,
instructions for the free

for those who choose to see it,
who stop and look around-
will here and for forever more
live free, live well, unbound.