Can I trust the silence to speak to me?
What can make me whole again?
My path covered by leaves:
The colors obscure the way.
Come now heaven and pour out the water
Which cleanses everything.
My feet scuffle as I shuffle
Along the crackling ground of Fall.
In my heart, it's already Winter
& Dry, so very dry--
(Might that I could fly instead!)
Could the snow melt my soul?
It's raining now;
All I hear is water.
Are You in it?







Ben Wilcox