Art Poetry The Sound The Wind Makes
As the wind in the trees brushes leaves with movement,
Venus watches from her pearly heaven’s gate,
The fluid action of clouds and matter as they wisp
Through eternity and vanish back into space.
Hushed whispers of truth pulse like ocean tides
And the universe listens, not missing a tender beat.
Pearly visions of a sun-lit moon reveal sweeping arcs
Of solar games, and the light of the mind’s eye pulls
From the depths of shadow the brilliance of life.
Like a heart beating, everything living in pulses…
There is even a deep vibration of stillness, in space.
A movement escapes from the void and gives birth this cherished moment.
It is the most sacred gift, present in the moisture of your eyes.
Stardust has gathered with the force of spirit and
Embodied the essence of wisdom