Silent Sounds

Silent sounds of night,
laced in a gentle breeze.
Rumbling of the ocean tide;
the mind and spirit at ease.

Baked with full emotion
the spirit lifts a hand.
Before the roaring waters fall,
a finger marks the sand.

Sparkling rays of brightness,
on the horizon shine.
Ebb of the leaven spirit;
a wondering soul to pine.

The waters roar and rumble,
then trickle over the sand.
They smooth the lonesome mark
of the wantoned spirit’s hand.

The sun breaks forth in gleaming glow,
the day is on its start.
Echoing tides of times gone by
are only places in the heart.

Barnum Taylor © 1998