I often long for the quiet of my youth

Back before all of the concerns and cares
Created long and winding monologues
Of all of the things I must remember to do
All the things I try to forget
And Everything that I am learning
From day to day

A time before the muses filled my head with music
Well into the night, into the early morning hours
Until from hand to piano to pen to paper
Their voices had been transcribed

A time before all the busy-ness and
noise of my hectic life drowned out
the birdsong and fregrant smell of roses

But most of all back to a time before
The sound that is no sound
Came to me

I don’t know when that may have been
I think it just crept up from behind
Like some phantom seen
from the corner of my
Left eye
Or was it the right?

What I do know is that it will never stop

Except, perhaps for one brief moment
When we paused
In the middle of the desert
To get a picture of you and me
In front of a Joshua tree
And there was a stillness
I had not known since I can’t remember when
But it was only a moment

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