Except for the voice of the cricket or hoot of an owl,
Silence is welcome where the wild ones live.
Wind rustles leaves in trees overhead,
while doe and fawn lay in matted grass bed.
Radio , TV, CD and cars don’t belong where they live,
but silence is welcome where the wild ones live.
These deer in the forest, what do they want?
Who do they love, what do they dream?
What might they think if they saw you and me?
Would they worry or laugh? Might they whimper or cry?
Are they fearful of our noise? Deep down do they sigh?
Maybe they’re hoping we’ll honor their space.
Maybe that’s why they didn’t join the human race.
Because silence is welcome where the wild ones live,
and silence is the one gift we all can give.
Poems to live by. Not a typical poem.