There is poetry in the silences, too.
In the parts of life that pass by
In autopilot, with unremarkable
Mundane bliss of proficiently existing
From task to repeated task.

The dance of life,
We go in and out of profoundness
Of sacred and mundane
Of exciting and comfortable
Of meaning and monotony
A constant sinusoidal spectrum
Of wax and waning.

I have not had many words lately.
I have been moving about my life
In a light of love and appreciation
For what is around me.
With a slight smile and warmth in my heart,
Gratitude in my soul
A light in my eye

But there have not been words
Weaving themselves into lace
Or blooming in self discoveries

But even this silence sings

For it is not the metal
That makes the bell ring
But the empty space
That fills it
Tao Te Ching
Now is a phase of empty space
In my waxing and waning moon cycle

It is Adar, a time of change, a shift
Of new beginnings.
I am preparing my soils for the coming growing season
Listening to the world’s hum.