works of words

These vast vistas, the wide empty;

Many pass through,

pass over,

pass by;

Missing the simple magnificence.

The simple can see,

the pretentious and conceited are blind,

blind to the beauty of solitude.

 

They preferring the clap trap noise, the clutter that is able to silence,

silence their inability to perceive the simple magnificence.

 

The wide empty only sings for the simple of heart.