The Silence Of Morning

The morning is silent, lost in a gentle hush; no sound.

The rising sun winks through the quickly fading leaves.

A trio of squirrels run in play between the shadows on the ground.

There’s a gentle tap upon my shoulder, I turn but see nothing.

A slight breeze rustles through the dying leaves and I hear a whisper.

Another tap, again nothing; then the whisper of “nothing to fear.”

See the shadows upon the ground thought I; see the shadows which fall upon this our life.

“See” said the whisper, as a red leaf drifted like a feather to the ground. “See the shadows, yet embrace only the light and know in your heart that I AM always around.

The wind ceased to blow as I watched the morning come full and bright.

The skitter of squirrels continued to chase the silent morning in play.

For in the silence of morning and through the whisper of the wind.

I found that fear dwells only in the shadows, and hope comes full circle by seeking the light.

J. Allen Wilson © 10/4/2011