Listen

What do you know...out popped a poem this morning. 

Listen

Lines of lyrical foolishness,

seep from a wounded heart.

Wither the angered poet,

who senses not what is there:

Orange-glow sunsets,

the laughter of children,

the scent of a lover,

wine upon the lips,

a rise of gooseflesh.

Consequence for what is forsaken,

screaming frustrations.

A quiet heart begs the answer:

shhhhh, listen.