The Wind Speaks in Stillness
The Falling of the leaves.
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Serene and tranquil...she stands - her yes closed.
An ode to the interlude of stillness...of peaceful reveries
A reverence felt deep within the heart of Skye's soul.
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Her parents named her MoonSkye
Born when colors danced in wind
The sky painting its path to her
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With Hands open to the gods,
worshipping
She gathers what cannot stay
Time's loom breathing flight.
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She listens to the quiet
unraveling in warm sighs.
The gentle hush before flight.
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Her breath turns to gold
as silence begins to fall.
Heralding a soft vanishing.
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MoonSkye stands in the drift
where colors fade to the static.
And still, ever still...she breathes
and remembers.
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She’s Keeper of Last Sounds
Her Spirit Unmoving...
Translating the language
Of the silently falling things.
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🪶Static, they now sit.
And wait...for the next wind.
About the Creator
Novel Allen
Existing in mist and shadow. Neutrally Abstract.
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