Until the Quiet Came

by David J. Mullaney
(Alta, Ca. USA)

Sitting by a gentle stream,

Her reflection seen by only me,

Her gaze indifferent to falling leaves,

The mysticism of ordinary experiece.

Dreams that haunt me,

The music was created-from the random chaos,

Songs sung long ago continue today,

Just like yesterday.

Until the quiet came,

When all that remained was the focus.

What was then shall someday be.