For one who moves in uncertainty, this
flower, the petals of which

gently fade, as if reason
is found in the decline of beauty
and its comforts.

But all you touch remains
touched. If silence reveals the body

of music, what can be said of darkness? Words
appear motionless until they blossom, a
pattern seldom seen yet carried to us in

all manner of conveyance. Listen,
for there is no purer voice.

Let the earth speak.

* * *

“Patterns” first appeared here in March, 2015. I wrote it 30-some years ago, placed it in a folder and promptly forgot it.


60 thoughts on “Patterns

  1. This reminds me of my son, who has high functioning autism. He is a listener, a perceiver of the world’s glossed-over details, who has enriched my existence beyond measure. The sentiment that would best capture who my son is and the language he speaks on behalf of the natural world is “There is no purer voice.”
    Thanks for this. It really touches my heart.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I am glad you still have it! So many things I have written are gone. I don’t know where or when or how, and I can’t recreate them now, so I am happy you don’t have to do that.

    I liked the feel of this, and the thoughts it provoked. Thank you.


    Liked by 1 person

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