I resist the urge to walk,
tell myself: sit and listen.
Sunlight returns shade by shade.
The green glows so brightly
my eyes close.
Bird sounds enter the stillness.
Insects resume mating calls.
Water splashes everywhere,
falls sphere by sphere,
from branch to leaf,
in uneven percussion.
Wind presses slowly
through the center of things.
Something inside blossoms:
not message, not messenger,
a wordless bloom.