There is no dark like a night
replete with the mystery of death.
There is no truth like a fleeting wind.
There is no lover like a lonely tree.
There is no friend like a blade
of faithful grass.
There is no light like a solitary beam
from the sun.
There is no poem like an evolving earth
and no Poet like the great Grace
of Silence.
We say we aren't listening to ourselves in the name of consideration for others. But this is a false premise because we can't really listen to others until we learn to listen, exquisitely listen, and TO ABIDE by our own heart.