there is nothing quite so
so gloriously peaceful,
so sweet to the soul,
as the sound of the wind
sighing through conifer branches,
making them sway gently
to let the sunlight break through
in soft pockets
to a rhythm,
to a symphony of light.
this wind announces its approach
through ripples
on an alpine lake
in conversation with
several unseen song birds
speaking that exactly
which needs to be said
and letting silence
proclaim all the rest.

(written 24 June 2015, Plumas National Forest)




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