Wednesday, December 28, 2016


The quiet ranching nights will days become
That make more noise among the cities' throng,
But silence such as they permit in sum
Can be made inner and so taken along.
I seek to keep the quiet in my heart
As I rise and move across the hills
Where oak and cedar grow and every part
Or place that sees the wildflowers thrills.
I know I am too upset in my core,
Too prone to being prodded into haste,
And so I find I'm ever seeking more
Of the quiet than is t'others' taste.
So it is I'm at the ranch again,
Hoping perhaps a quiet heart to win.

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