Quiet

The air so still that nothing can be heard
the blackest abyss of a moonless night
low thick clouds as a shroud 
lay deep against the mountain
the valley in solemn stillness

In such a time when all is dull and flat
my fine-tuned sense of hearing
searches for meaning, desperately seeking input
I start to hear the beating of my own heart
feel the air pressing lightly on my skin
a foreboding feeling of utter solitude climbs
only to be pushed back by deep introspective thought

A reaching upward, outward
connecting with my own power
a real companionship with myself
I am enlivened and spread my feeble light
gradually intensifying into sparks, streams and wonder
now released from the immensity of quiet

I am safe with myself
untouched by external forces
I groan in delight 
filling the silent expanse with me