Until the Quiet Came
by David J. Mullaney
(Alta, Ca. USA)
Sitting by a gentle stream,
Her reflection seen by only me,
Her gaze indifferent to falling leaves,
The mysticism of ordinary experiece.
Dreams that haunt me,
The music was created-from the random chaos,
Songs sung long ago continue today,
Just like yesterday.
Until the quiet came,
When all that remained was the focus.
What was then shall someday be.