Wind-chime Behind the Leaves

Certain thoughts come to mind sometimes, and I like to try to turn them into poetry. It's hard to turn those ideas into words but I try.

Sun beams glisten and nature listens

The silence has purpose and I know, because I know

Silence is a sound that carries other sounds

Rings and tings and other silver things

The notes aren't played by me

It's only a fluke of time they're even here