As I listen to the
symphony of sounds,
all the insects clicking
with the comfortable
passing of time,
all the birds singing
blissfully between their
heartbeat and mine,
the clouds don’t care
about the sun or moon,
they move across my
eyes like tired soldiers,
I see them all dressed in
white, I hear their widows
weeping through the
gentle breeze making
the leaves peacefully
quiver, I continue to
believe in the good
of mankind, I tell myself
all the answers hide
in the delicate corners
of a quiet room …
Clay.M