Infinite Whispers
by John Trent
Alone I stand on this dark wooded path
So fresh the scent of the impending rain
I close my eyes to face the wind
As the lions of March roar through the pine
And settle to the sound of God’s infinite whispers
Bare limbs reach and continue to dance
Ever so subtle, cool drops kiss my face
Each touch awakens the essence of my soul
While thunder annouces the arrival of spring
And the dead slowly fall, making way for the new
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