I have wrestled in fits of sun
with the noise of desire
and the voice of Spirit’s guide,
present through generations.
‘Til darkness descends,
rescinding daylight's hounding bustle,
relieving senses of all but necessary perception--
and in that blessed silence
songs of night resound. . .
Suddenly I hear my own breath.
Then,
a cricket bows a tune composed
by his kin
outside my grandmother’s window
while the night wind,
that also brushed her evening’s panes
whispering of faith,
passes now by mine
(its beginning, unknown; its destiny, every place).
I incline attentive ear,
discovering softly
the cricket song
dancing wildly against the stillness,
pursuing passion with abandon
and the wind gently grazing the glass
in perfect restraint
instead of bursting through.
In those moments,
moonlight brings discernment
and I learn
to balance truths.
Silver trophy winner
Adding your comment:
Excellent poetry - as it was meant to be enjoyed. ~Pamela 
This is soft and wise dear poet. Love, Chez (Sheila!) 
