by Robert C. Denison, LCSW-C
Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
In wilderness, it is said, trees are never lost. I find the
nearest, sit underneath and breathe. I inhale the best
of what the canopy, in an open sky, has to offer.
Leaning into this faithfulness, I find freedom from
a standpoint of certainty. A squirrel drinks silence.
Feeders attract, feathers sing songs I cannot make.
From your lines written vertically, I accept
the prompt, practice patient waiting for what
I do not know and yet, it eventually comes. You
slip through the leaves, pierce my darkness. Here,
I can let go of all expectations, use what I am given.
Of this continuing revelation,
I can only write a part of it.