Standing Still
In seclusion.
Sonorous sounds are filtered
Sequestered into seclusion
The sounds of the birds and the rustle of the wind
Stand still in a magic occlusion.
Memories washed by raindrops
Trees whisper sweet refrains
Concealed in cocoons of contentment
Drinking the sweet breath of the rain.
A calm from all the commotion
New insight encountered alone
Moonbeams hang from silver clouds
Here in a people-free zone.
Reborn renewed and replenished
In moments of mutual exclusion
The resonant sound of echoes
In the solitary act of seclusion.
Moving from mixed emotions
On a journey of discovery
Maintaining and sustaining
The wealth of personal recovery.
A remedy for overworked memories
In harmony of body and soul
A private place of peace to travel
Beyond the celestial pole.
Freedom from fear and feeling clear
From the natter and chatter of words
Flying up high into the sky
To home alone with the birds.
Getting right back to the innate knack
Of listening to my heart
A soupçon of satisfaction
And the art of a new start.
I stand in storms of sunlight
A new day has begun
The smell of the salt sea air
The tide is on the run.
©
David Rudder
2024
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