Garden’s hush opens upan abyss at my center, still point.Someone touches me, mystery, otherness.No words are spoken, silencethe language of God.Silence, calm, hushed garden usher me into a presence, presence of my beloved.Let me rest in this quiet visit, gift that puts a beautifulend to a hectic day.Someone is with me—that is all that matters!-Evening Hush
Robert Trabold, Watching the River Flow By: Selected Poems