Quiet on the Wind {a #poem}
On the wind
His words gently breezing
through the pinwheel
turning, iridescent blue
blowing across the surface
moving gently, forcing
me to hear, “I’m here”
while I ponder slowing–
less turning, more still-
like the quiet trees
hushing, the soft branches
suspended, punctuation
placed securely on the pages
of the sky, declaring a full stop.
I’ve heard rumors of His kindness,
long to be bathed with words.
I lean in lingering,
straining for His voice.
Cupping His hand o’er my ear,
He shares secrets like a lover,
and I am washed into waking
shocked at the power
of quiet on the wind.
