Your voice is my favorite sound.
In the silence, I find my searing pain
before it dissolves and all that remains
is the sweetest kind of love.
In the forest, our great earth’s quiet
is accompanied by beauty
that is almost too much to bear,
revealed in part through choral hymn:
the rustling leaves, the faintest bustle
of insects in their homes under rocks.
I am tired. I sit with my back
against a great grandfather tree
and can feel all his brothers and sisters
rush in together to replenish me
and the sound can almost be missed,
but it contains every wisdom
and the secrets belong to all of us.
It could be hours or days
that it takes for me to return to myself,
and connect to my heartbeat
that is part of the lullaby of the woods.
Then, when I am ready, I emerge,
and you are new through my softened eyes,
and you have never changed at all.
We clamor and desire and aspire,
and your voice is my favorite sound.
– Tammy Takahashi