The Silence (Of All Things)

Let me not mourn the
silence of the passing
on of the seasons

Of fruiting, of branching out;
the unnaming of leaves
and a language thereof

Speaking into the world's ear,
golden to itself in color.
It lives in the death

rooted in the incomprehensible,
singing aloud its call
to be harvested.

Let the world not name
This song, but receive
its muted melody.

Let the trifles of words
not belabor this:
Its speech that has no sound

Remains undefined in
Mans' concrete terms
in this silence where
all things dwell.

    .....

#WendellBerry

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