Silent Place

Would that the world were a silent place,

That is, void of the chaos of mortal men

Filled instead with wind and water,

And mountains cutting through thick forests.

Walking, feel both the warmth and coolness of soft

fertile earth

As it rises beneath the soft weights of my toes

And I, like wandering root do feel,

walking under the looming trees.

Inside a humid fog, repose,

and awaken, not wet, but warm

The smell of vibrant moss suffusing the air

and the senses.

Above me,

The clouds, turbulent in color and size

Wage war, though fruitless, to claim the sky

from the sun,

But none dare challenge the resplendent moon,

who, with her starry subjects, rises against

a midnight-blue canvas.

She is whole, tonight,

and the clouds have become still and light,

The forests have retreated to mystery,

and the mountains lose their arrogance.

And there is nothing to fear,

No chaos of mortal men.

 

Nesha Usmani

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