Voice

Wind rustles the summer leaves,
Clearing the dust,
From my mind.

Free of grime,
I can see the freshness,
Of the color.

I think of this filter,
And how it applies,
Not only to nature,
But to my eyes.

Day to day living creates my mind’s dust,
To cloud my internal vision,
I prevent as this I must.

Stopping to listen,
To nothing at all,
Will eventually lead me to be,
As strong as the wall.

Listening to nothing at all,
Allows me to hear,
The voice of God,
Whispered in my ear.

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