In the loud absence of deafening sound-
My heart, my soul-they both rebound,
in the bright absence of blinding light-
I hear the wind and branches fight.
In the boring moments of terrific fun-
behold fire from deep in me burn.
As the cold creates its own sunburn,
I see the twinkle- an idea is born.
In that sweet moment when I’m alone,
with all of creation, I feel at home-
the power of God I can then hone
to create something- clone of my clone.
I’d rather be, away from home
and make the future, man’s growth backbone,
than stay here today where all men groan.
stay with you, smell your own cologne:
To this one fact then become emissary-
Yes there’s victory in sweet solitary.