After writing an article; The Art of Silence, and upon further reflection, I penned the following poem. In light of the books and music I have been indulging in of late; this took the poem down a darker path, than initially intended.
everybody should be quiet
near a little stream
where the wild roses grow
and just listen
down to the river we ride
be silent, listen to your heartbeat
take my hand, I'll take yours
to much madness and sorrow
the loudest words are not spoken
living in this age of rage
down to the river we go
walking towards the light
this beautiful place
wearing many guises
sending me down the river tonight
my baby and I
the river runs clear in the night
no words needed to uncover
an ability to let things go
take solace in the silence
an inner absence of preoccupation
masks the hidden messages of compliance
do you know where
the wild roses grow
down by the river
together you may get away
baptised in the river
cleansed
be delivered
© 2016 Michael D Emmerich