Poetry

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In the stillness of the heart
can be heard the sounds of true love.
We, beings tri-part
by the whisper of the wind do move.

But who takes time to listen?
In this craving enslaved world
who of us is not driven
pushed, shoved and whirled?

by the ever urgent calling
the longing deep within
incessant pleading crying begging
of the delicacy of sin.

There is a secret place
where the thirsting heart may find
deep and pleasant solace
respite and drink for the weary mind

The ancient garden fertile sits
in the hearts of all mankind.
Replete in tender delectable fruits
lush and marvelously Divine.

Stillness grants one access
to the garden’s wondrous treasures -
to the way we may possess
unimaginable and marvelous pleasures


Carol Shaffron c 2005

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