The clock ticks
The sleepers snore gently
The heating hums
The quiet is plenty
It's silent, almost
As quiet as it gets
Its perfect for hearing
Whispers, and yet
Its nothing major
No great shout
The clues in the name
A whisper's about
A thought or word
A feeling, not call
An image or tune
Slight, that's all
But slight they're not
The whispers to me
They sustain and inspire
Show me what can be
So I sit in the quiet
Enjoying the time
Hearing the whispers
Accepting then as mine
God's in the whispers
Talking to me
I hear him gently
Telling what's to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment