There is joy
In this echo
And the silence
That comes after
So succinct
Like gathering rain
Searching for land
Warm and distant
There is laughter
In the solitude
That descends swift
And as delicate
As a puff of air
Moving sideways
To tickle your neck
Such a fragile touch
There is music
On the edges
Of this renaissance
Simply elegant
In its beauty
A trick of the ear
Haunting like a fire
That refuses to die
And it echoes
Off the stone face
Of our canyon
Waiting for a reply.
Sam
Sam's Online Journal 