Silent Music

I heard the silent music again today.
It plays so sweetly sometimes
When I am chopping wood for the fire,
Or standing near the bottom of my garden.
This afternoon it suddenly swelled
As I was near the wood pile,
And I stopped,
Letting my heart fill with it.

I have heard people say
It calls them when
They are near to death.
They are urged to follow it.
But for myself
There is no voice in it
Telling me to be elsewhere.
It is there with me
And the logs,
Or as I walk amongst trees,
Or if hear the echoes of my life’s actions
With its silences.

Copyright ©2007 Tony Crisp

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