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  • Constant chatter.
    No space for silences
    where thoughts grow,
    feelings germinate.

    I feel I'm being subjected to a litany of news --
    some good, some bad, most already heard.
    What's to fear in silence
    between us, Mother?
    I don't need to be entertained.

    I've come to share your heart,
    instead you empty your mind.
    Debris scatters across the landscape;
    that space where new thoughts and feelings spawn
    littered like an unkempt yard.

    It still feels like home,
    having always been this way.
    But sometimes I dream of a place
    where wildflowers bloom in their seasons,
    no need to preen or prune,
    perfect in their wild abstraction.

    I do my best to accept you as you are
    chatter and all.
    There's no doubt that you care and love me
    and I feel the same.
    It's just a quirky connection,
    a cluttered yard
    with love scattered
    like seeds.

    Photo by utahwildflowers on Flickr:
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