12/14/2012

Call It Night



The silence
at the center of the storm
never judges the wind.
All this turbulence, my dear,
is outside you.
The blue emptiness of space
remains the same.
But a little whirling, with a beam 
from the slightest star, 
and you call it morning 
instead of night.
Let my love remind you
of your stillness. 

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