sacred silences leap
sky-tinted glass
clouds glide soft paths
whispering nightfall
above ocean's depth
peace flakes shards;
shavings of yester year
cradle-rocked in breeze
moonlight washes
waves ashore.
I hear your voice
drifting amongst whispers, shards
Lord,
hear me;
I have need to talk . . .







12 old applause
