A blank page

In the quietude of this blank page
wild words are resting, grazing silence
by the river flowing soundlessly
towards the distant edge of this world.

My thoughts catch on and start to search
for the herd lying low.

A whiff of breath moves a blade of grass,
the words get to their feet,
milling to protect their

young newborn sounds

from my threatening breath,
the young are still fragile,
my thoughts are watched
in their turn.

I stand my thoughts down
for the sounds must feed,
suckle mother’s milk to meaning,
I need not hunt.

Footprints in the mud along the river,
like foreign letters,  poetry in
a language I cannot read,
yet feel to be true to the heart
of the herd.

The silence is broken by the sounds
of life’s next generation.

Before my eyes
the page becomes world,
breathing,
growing up to be

one
living
word…