Quiet

I crave the rare quiet of the world.
Where there is no need to be heard.
Silent stoic mountains with their stone stare
penetrate my turmoiled soul.
I rupture with rapture.
Soundless pine and evergreen,
populate so serene.
Everything is so incredibly still,
nothing moves.
Even my thoughts become motionless.
Suspended in a paralysis of peace.
Yet my heart beats a gentle pound.
To an untamed, untarnished beauty.
Exquisitely profound.