the darkest feeling
is shouting into a wide world,
and hearing no response.
the deepest silence
is the one you create yourself.

the natural world holds sound
on its own pedestal,
a grunting roaring purring pillar
that captures cyclical life.

raindrops have their own loves,
separate from the rivers they compose.
a waterfall rushes towards caprice
and shrieks the whole way down.
fog silences the lesser needs,
allowing only gentleness to bleed through,
and the rush of a geyser pours out
a waterbound ritual of praise.

the natural world finds its own peace,
a symphony of self-response.
a human is not lucky enough
to see himself in so many means,
not capable of so much transformation.
he has only one voice,
and uses it to create all the noise he can,
or else be left alone.