Whisper in my ear.
Tell me your thoughts.
What hidden things stir your veins,
on the tree in the still of night?
Fragrant watery breeze blowing from nearby stream
Teasing you with fingers that never touch.
But that is the language of nature:
Touching without limbs
Seeing without eyes
Breathing without moving
Singing without a song.
Secrets told in invisible languages
Leaf to leaf.
Harmonies sung without words.
Your pulse quickens
As lush days turn into fecund nights.
To those without ears, the sound
Is impossibly beautiful.
Originally posted in October 2007 by Paul Rosenberg