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  • Writer's pictureJohn Patrick Starling

A Dialogue

This is the place you let yourself hear

The sound of your own small voice,

The trees leaning over the little creek

Bending your ear as they speak

In whispers, telling you...

You're home.

The only man made sound is your own.

Off a narrow path where you found the stream,

Maybe a mile or so from the farm, or longer

Where you finally took time to stop your wheels, and

Ignored the appeals of everything pulling at your sleeve

And spoke to yourself in your own way...

Listening closely for what you might say.

~John Patrick Starling

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