Something Like the Feel of Silence

There is a sweet stillness
in the morning air
of this last Wednesday in June.

The first streaks of sun
come from about as far to north
as they ever will in northeast Kansas,
just one week past the solstice.

Absent as much as a flinch or a flicker,
maple leaves droop toward earth
and locust branches hold long and slender
near the edges of the eave.
Even the five-thirty mourning dove
is taking a break on this day’s dawning.

Heavy dew shines the surface
of a hundred tiny webs
silvering the lawn
and the smooth river rocks on the patio.

I do not yet know
what waits in store on this good day
but I know Who Has Made It
and believe that he will see me through it.

I will sit for a while longer,
sipping steaming coffee
and grateful for the peace
of its beginning.

H. Arnett

About Doc Arnett

Native of southwestern Kentucky currently living in Ark City, Kansas, with my wife of twenty-nine years, Randa. We have, between us, eight children and twenty-eight grandkids. We enjoy singing, worship, remodeling and travel.
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