Listen

LISTEN

Have you ever tried to talk to the flowers or the trees?
Have you ever listened to the song that floats upon the breeze?
Rain that falls upon the angry tin roof,
Speaks ancient volumes of nothing but truth.
Listen to the crab that crawls along the sand.
You just might hear a voracious marching band.
Listen to the moon as it sits in night's sky;
You just might begin to hear it slowly start to cry.
A shiny diamond ring, an old worn shoe.
They speak wondrous tales, both old and new.
The fire that crackles 'round a log at night
Tells a fanciful tale of Dawn's Early Light.
The leaves that change color and to the ground they fall,
Tell the story of the oak that raised them all.
So, the next time you pluck a rose from the earth,
Listen, my child, and it will tell you of its birth.


-- Feb. 19, 1999