Home is a rural place full of song.
The closest neighbors are oaks and pines that sing in tune with the wind.
The ground cover of chaparral dances in time with the trees.
At night the coyotes sing tenor and the owls sing bass. The bats provide a wispy percussion.
The loudest song, however, is silent.
Clear nights provide an unearthly umbrella of color leaking from a black canvas. The galaxy in which we exist drips its lights of fire onto our eyes and, if we are very, very still, we can hear them.
We can hear the reds and blues and whites.We can feel, as if it were sound, the pulsing of the energies that are sent in our direction. They are the remnants of explosions that no longer exist.
Words do not describe the awe, the majesty of those moments, late at night when you can hear the stars.
Talkin' to Myself 
So very beautiful. I could almost hear them too as I read your words so aptly descriptive.
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So very beautiful. I could almost hear them too as I read your words so aptly descriptive.
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Thank you, Carol!
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You are most welcome. 🙂
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So evocative
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Thank you, Derrick!
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Beautiful! The last line is my favorite!
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Reblogged this on Fae Corps Publishing.
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Thank you!
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Thank you!!!!!!
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No problem!
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Thank you for this offering. You are helping in keeping the good Choral Music alive.
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