Into the wood

Now I steal away to the wood To quiet myself

And listen

I can’t help my alert and busy mind Painting every moment just past Dancing and dizzying

Light cascades down through branch and leaf, pooling onto the ground

I open intently my heart’s ear Listening for a God hid beneath The white noise of each day

How young I am in the school of silence Though in waiting I just might hear

A simple voice

Not a loud, strong, boisterous bellow Nor a soft, hushed, or quiet cry

Just a luring of the soul To breathe, slow, listen, and know