Sometimes,
when it's late at night,
and my mind won't allow my body to sleep ...
I sit and just listen.
I try to hear what it is that I am missing,
what it is that lurks in the back of my mind.
It's not easy.
There is so much noise in the quiet,
so much chaos and clatter.
It's like a summer storm in my mind.
The winds howl and the lightning strikes,
yet it produces no rain.
Nothing to show for all the to-do.
I sit,
and try so hard to hear above the wind ... to hear and listen, but I can't.
I've grown deaf in my own silence.
I've grown deaf ... in the storm of my own creation.
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J. A. Stroud a.k.a. GlassPoet.
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