A Calm Leaf

A calm leaf upon a summer breeze;
Elegant, it moves with effortless ease.
Be like the leaf, my child dearest;
With graceful strength face challenges nearest.
Raise thyself from thy low knees;
And to the future, hold the keys.

Silent Things

The last six entries have been from a cycle I wrote over a couple of days a while ago, titled 'Silent Things'.  They detail several ordinary, every day things in the world.  Things that people don't notice.  They're all things that have some particular importance to me - things in which I find a moment of calm and a moment of the divine, for lack of a better word.  If you've been following them (and I doubt anyone has), thank you for your time.  If you've come across this later, you can click the Silent Things tag at the bottom of this post to read all of them.  Thanks for reading.
And always
Listen to the Silent Things.

Stones (in the ground)

Together, they are orange

It is not the same orange as one might call the fruit

But it is an orange still

The orange is the impression one gets when one looks at them

Looks at them as a whole

It is the image they want you to see.

But stop.  Stare a while.  And see.

Among the sea of orange,

One sees specks of greens.

And then reds.

And then blues.

Until one realises that the orange is not the colour of all

It is not even the colour of most.

Each and every stone in the ground

In the carpet that soaks up the rain

Each has its own colour.

They are not orange.

It is simply the colour that binds them.