Magician’s Tricks

What about when I’m lost for words?
When the fearful heart you’ve made
plays no music. And silent chords
trickle from trumpet to the grave;
trees tremble for the song of birds.

Is there beauty in what isn’t?
A quiet mind, soul and spirit
can do more than slick magician
tricks of words, pen and paper wit.

Apocrypha is blessing to
ears that hear only soft, sweet songs
which sail like fragrant ocean views.

The quiet wind, blowing words hard
will quiet my winding, fleshy heart.

Still the voice of stillness speaks, “Come.”

11/01/06