Like a blossom
from the silence,
the fragrance
of more silence.
It settles in
like the dusk,
prelude to
the mystery
of the wilderness,
enormous as the night.
A black orchid
of un-summable depths.
We are each
our own sublimely mundane
and commonly exquisite
wilderness.
And we are evoked
with the greatest precision,
by the passage
of our footsteps
walking
side by side
and by the listening,
this commonplace
yet oh so rare
blessing. Let the rain of listening fall into you.
-- Lorena Wolfman (late July)
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