I have not written a poem for a while. I try to journal each day. I started this poem about 10 days ago, left it for a few days, and came back to it today. I feel rusty in the writing, but it is a beginning.
When I walk, I listen, subscribing to the idea sound completes itself in in-between spaces. Without spaces, sound lacks rhythm and melody. When I am mindful, I recognize a particular sound. Also, I can recognize unfamiliar sounds in those spaces.
Nature’s voice is always in melody,
She raises and lowers it effortlessly.
Spring breezes filled with rustling and whispering,
Shrill winter storms shrieking and whistling.
Soft showers murmuring in gentle ways,
Thunderous storms that shake and amaze.
It is in pauses melody is completed,
It is in silence sound is fulfilled.
Several years, we were in Jasper National Park and saw this cow elk. She was quiet and did not move. We were there for a few minutes before we noticed her. There were others who arrived before us and had not seen her. It was in the silence and calm we noticed her.