Friday, June 07, 2013

Poem #68: The Quiet Ones

It isn't only the vociferous,
the fearless, the vengeful
who sing. The songs 
of mid-day, of course, 
belong to them: 
bright songs of
glorious wars (and 
more subtle battles) won
and lost; brave, galloping
songs of romance
and adventure; songs
to stir the blood and
rouse the faintest heart.
In the gentler hours, though--
when lilac mists drape
sleeping fields, 
when fog stirs and roams 
in solitude among the
fern-shod giants and 
tumbling crags--
then softer melodies
are born. The quiet 
ones, who do not boast 
or brag, whose songs--more
intricate, by far--lament
the warriors lost, 
the cost of worldly love 
and honor eclipsed by 
beauty's harsh, bleak glare.
There you will find
truth, sweet and pure,
among a low-slung
hum of honeybees, and
blowzy clouds against
a summer sky, an evening
kiss, a faint, fair lullaby. 

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six


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