Simon and Garfunkel were right
I can’t tell how
or when
it happened.
It has sneaked up
ninja quiet
with feathers for shoes.
There was something in
the heaviness of the clouds
that spoke of this day.
Threes lines scratched in the sky
could have been a sign
from a Mayan spirit
or ancient wisdom
from different gods
hidden in plain sight.
In a time when voices
deafen the world, words
cross the planet in an instant
I have finally
made friends
with silence.
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