Poetry and art by Robbie Down
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
