Secrets

I wonder at this story
Trees whisper to a stream
Streams hum to the ocean
And the sea records on a shell
Yet just as gossip deceives
A language is lost
I cannot make sense of it
Neither will trees or stream or ocean translate
So I sit, I listen, and wonder
While the flowers titter behind cheery façades
Bees drone idly by with no thought for mystery
Knowing not that one such as I looks on
Merely dancing to the trees’ story
Some happy legend put to a secret, sacred melody
Hidden from my grasp
I feel it, though—soothing and sweet
Perhaps that sensation is all it is meant to be
No hidden message or meaning, no fundamental mystery
Yet every fiber of me rebels at the idea
So I carry on sitting, listening, wondering


~Happy Birthday W.C!~