I like the quiet...

I like the quiet.

When the only sound in my office is the whir of the ceiling fan.

The tick of a clock that won't keep time.

The rapid click-click of my keyboard.

The resonance of my thoughts...

I like the quiet.

Those moments when the world is still.

When the breeze lies down.

When peace finds a harbor.

I like quiet.

When the white noise of ceases.

When social media ends.

When the music is off.

The radio dim.

No voices outside or in.

I like the quiet.

When God speaks.

JOY!

I like the quiet...

Don't you wonder?

The story of this swing?

How long it's been there?

How long it will be?

Did lovers sit here and declare their hearts?

Or a crying mother over the plight of a child?

Perhaps children ran screaming for the swing,

Hopping up on it's seat.

Maybe the swing itself weeps,

Of being alone,

Beside the tree.

I wonder,

what story

this swing would tell

If wood, nails and twine

Could speak.

Perhaps I'll take it as my task.

To tell the tale,

of an old wooden swing,

dangling from my tree.