Sounds

Sounds falling in the distance,
With an echo rising clear.
Like the tinkling of soft bells,
Falling on my ear.

And a water-fall descending,
With its many rills.
Splashing on the rocks below,
Where gay eddies spill.

Touching sprays to wind-clouds,
Sailing through the skies.
Feeling flaps of wing-beats,
As agile-gulls go by.

In the motion of my very self,
With heart-beats sounding out.
And lets me know that deep within,
There is an inward route.

That takes me to that sacred realm,
where angels do applaud.
And helps in my listening,
To communicate with God.


E.P. 1908 - 1989