Quieter still

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They say that you are great,
utterly superior. But I have heard you laugh
like a child
in the sounds that the bubbling brook makes.

Who are you
who
can be heard at dawn
spilling the silence
into quiet and the quiet into
quieter still.

I have seen you carelessly scatter
a thousand effervescent sunbeams
over the window sill
onto the carpet.

I have heard your questions
in the sound of the whispering leaves.

Who are you
who
hides
and seeks, who reveals
your presence
in the lowly caves,
in the centre of a broken heart
too deep
to be reached
by the great.

There, close by, I have heard you play
knee-deep in the mud
of life; there, close by,
in the most
intimate part
of all that is broken
and lost,
I have heard
you come out to play.

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