The Wee Morning Darkness

In the wee morning darkness

As I lay half asleep on my bed

I listen to the sounds of the stillness

As it hums gently in my ear

The dark tones shift slowly in a soft harmony

And though my eyelids are tired and closed

My minds eye sees through the darkness

Guided by the feint echoes and pulses of the silence

Reverberating across the empty black spaces

And though I am alone the room is full

And though it is dark, it is full of stillness

And the imagination is free to see and believe

Whatever it will construct

Though the clocks are ticking

It is true that even time stands still

In the mute silence of the room

And though the silence is mute

It is true that it is not dumb

That it knows and feels and hears and sees

And it is the littlest things that are the most noticed

The Great Wall Revisited

Trails in the Snow

1991-1993