Below the quiet hum the waking world makes
as earth turns slowly sun-ward each new day,
before the civil bustle starts in earnest
and clutters the ear’s palette with its play,
in those few silent moments, as I lay still
beside her sleeping form, just listening
in awe to the low murmur of her breathing,
I hear the universe begin and end.
Not much, nor of much weight, these precious seconds;
and yet, to me their worth is beyond price:
what mere religion claims to be worth worship,
what lesser dreams enshrine as paradise.
05 NOV 2010
November 15th, 2010 at 1:51 am
This is beautiful.