David Wood (07 April 1950 / London)
Sitting on the promenade
Or the sandy beach below,
Feeling the wind blow softly
Through your hair and kiss
Or walking through a woodland glade
With the wind rustling the leaves
On golden trees in autumn.
And litter leaf blowing under your
Feet as you walk.
Or watching a milky moon softly
Glide across a clear night sky,
A clear orb shining through in the
Night. Silence speaking volumes
That peaceful silence, still, yet
Living, surrounding your thoughts
As your mind meanders like the gentle
Waves of an oasis in a desert
That will revive lost souls.
What peace there is when the
World is still, where we can listen
To the silence that floats through
Our mind, relaxing our whole
Being. Silence and stillness does
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