Sonnet #219

Walk deep into the wilderness where you are

Be it desert plain or forest hills or swimming out to sea

Where there is no sound of the roads running cars

No sounds of the rumble and bustle of we

Listen where the leaves fall and you can hear it

Where the slightest breeze whispers music

And autumn paints pictures where tree roots sit

And birds recall a world where their cries acoustic

Are all that sounds like a song, are the brooks

there babbling? Are they singing a new song?

Are the waves upon the shore roaring, are you shook?

Do not confuse these noises with peace, that’s wrong

Your only peace in that place is that you can go home

Once upon a time, that was the song of the ruins of Rome.

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